


Torn

by A_Winter



Series: Torn [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cabbage Patch Hobbits, Domestic Violence, F/M, Female Ori, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gold Sick Thorin, Hurt, I'm still figuring out what's going to happen, M/M, Mental Instability, Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 30,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8952304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Winter/pseuds/A_Winter
Summary: *Summary in Progress because I am bad at them*After entering Erebor Thorin falls to Goldsickness, after he hurts Bilbo he manages to push it back but slowly it engulfs him until all he can see is his possessions and that includes Bilbo. Slow burn Angst/Domestic abuse - Inspired by the song Torn by Natalie Imbruglia.UnBeta'd and still taking shape, please don't hate me.





	1. The First Blow

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All, I am sorry in advance for future pain caused by this fic. Please be prepared.  
> I would love feedback and suggestions as I am still developing the path this will take, I only the ending so far. 
> 
> Obviously I don't own the Hobbit, and I definitely don't condone spousal abuse! Please read with discretion and self awareness.

The company had noticed a difference in Thorin since they had driven Smaug from the mountain, but none so much as Bilbo. The Hobbit watched night after night as he lover dug through mound after mound of treasure in search of a rock, a rock with was safely tucked inside his own pocket. Watching as Thorin seemed to lose himself to the desperate need of the Arkenstone Bilbo made his decision and left the treasury and in time the mountain itself. 

He’d hoped that his Dwarf would be able to resist the call of the treasure, a fear which the Dwarf had shared with him during his incarceration in Mirkwood, but now he was no longer sure. 

Bilbo had felt a deep attraction Thorin from the moment he’d laid eyes on the Majestic fool, though the first words to come out of his mouth had destroyed that… for a few days at least. The more he’d learnt about the Dwarf king the more he came to care for him, though he could be a stubborn and pig headed fool at times. It was the occasional gentleness Thorin wasn’t even aware of that really made Bilbo fall, it was the way his eyes would soften for just a moment before he’d start yelling and Fili & Kili for some mischief they’d got themselves involved in, it was the way he knew each member of the company by name and their strengths weaknesses and greatest fears and tried his best to shield them from the later. It was the way he took even the smallest injuries to heart, as though he alone could protect them all. It was the way he seemed so surprised by his own ability to smile or laugh, as though being King he were not allowed such small pleasures. 

Bilbo had fallen for Thorin in the worst way, it wasn’t until the company was detained in Thranduil’s dungeon that he had known his attraction was returned. In the weeks they were detained Thorin had opened up, perhaps it was the darkness that allowed him to finally make such consolations to the Hobbit but it didn’t matter. In the dark Thorin had asked Bilbo to accept his suit and grinning like a fool the Hobbit had, sealing the deal with a kiss. From there things had moved quickly for the company but slowly for them as a couple, Thorin wanted to do things right by his culture and his people which meant a long and slow courtship. Bilbo was okay with this, but if he stole a kiss or two then who would blame him. 

Now however he looked at Thorin and wondered where his intended had gone and who this stranger was who’d replaced him, though the other Dwarves of the company were scarcely better. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised Bilbo that the ones least effected by the pull of the treasure were those not of Erebor or the line of Durin. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Ori and Dori were the least drawn to the treasure. Sure they too had spent the first few days frolicking in the spoils of their labours but just as it had with Bilbo the shine wore off quickly, eventually they too spent their time watching over loved ones or attempting to shore up Erebor’s defences. Slowly it’s pull had lessened on the others too, but not Thorin. For Thorin the pull had only grown stronger. 

Tonight as Bilbo left the treasury he tried to ignore young Ori attempting to pull Dwalin from the large hall, tears streaming down her cheeks, but her Fiancé shook his head and continued to search. His loyalty to his King outweighing his loyalty to his own heart, this was an argument the pair had almost daily now and only served to hurt them both. This had gone on long enough, the Elves were camped outside and so were the men, each intent on their own claims to the accursed treasure. The Dwarves were being torn apart by their loyalty and their senses. No one was able to reach Thorin any longer, Balin had spoken to the young Hobbit of Gold-sickness and neither doubted its hold on the King. 

It was not hard to sneak out of the mountain, though with a ring on invisibility he supposed he had an unfair advantage. His thoughts full of the days encounters the Hobbit silent made for the camp beyond. He had seen the madness in Thorin’s eyes as he’d sent Bard away, as he’d gifted Bilbo himself with amour and then accused his people of the very betrayal Bilbo himself had committed. Bilbo knew that this act could well mean the end of their relationship, of their engagement, but he knew that if he did not act it would spell the end of Thorin and the company. This was not something he could ignore and so he sought to make a deal with the very Devil his lover feared. 

 

X~X~X~X~X

 

Bilbo knew he’d done the right thing, even as Thranduil and Bard approached the barricade the Dwarves had erected. He did not fear Thorin’s wrath, just as he’d told Gandalf the night before. However, if he’d been a wiser Hobbit he’d have known better but then if he were a wiser Hobbit he’d not have been on this quest at all. Bilbo looked at the grim faces around him as Thorin shot an arrow at the ground below, stopping the progress on the man and Elf. 

“I will put the next one between your eyes!” called Thorin, his tone harsh and cold as he drew his bow again. 

Clearly Thranduil did not appreciate being shot at because in the next moment hundreds of bows were aimed at the Dwarves upon the ramparts, the company stepped back out of harm’s way… Thorin did not. 

“We’ve come to tell you: payment of your debt has been offered...and accepted.” Thranduil called, his tone mocking and almost joyous. 

“What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!” Bilbo shivered, perhaps he should have taken Gandalf’s words more seriously. 

“We have this.” Answered Bard, Bilbo could have shot the man himself. A public arena was not what he’d had in mind for this conversation, and predicably Thorin erupted at seeing the Arkenstone held aloft. Kili certainly didn’t help with his habit of stating the obvious. 

“They have the Arkenstone? Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king!”

“And the king may have it - in our good will.” Bilbo definitely wanted to shoot Bard now, he wondered if he could steal Kili’s bow without the archer noticing. “But first he must honour his word.”

“They are taking us for fools. This is a ruse, a filthy lie.” Thorin began muttering to himself, the Dwarves around him looked concerned for their King. Balin in particular looked wounded by Thorin’s words. “THE ARKENSTONE IS IN THIS MOUNTAIN! IT IS A TRICK!”

Bilbo couldn’t take this anymore, he could see the hurt and madness warring in his lover, he could see the confusion and pain in each member of the company. He stepped forward, praying to Yavanna that they would understand.

“It-It’s no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them.” As one the company turned to him with various looks of shock, hurt, betrayal and outrage… then there was Thorin.

“You…” Bilbo had never known how much hate a person could express with one word, how much rage and sorrow and utter betrayal. There were no words to describe it but it tore the Hobbit apart. 

“I took it as my fourteenth share.” He tried to reason, it was weak but he had to try and this was the justification he’d convinced himself of. That he’d give up his share of the treasure to save the company, to save Thorin.

 

“You would steal from me?” Again, the tone that could not be described. It sounded as though Bilbo was ripping Thorin’s heart out with his bare hands. 

 

“Steal from you? No. No. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one. I’m willing to let it stand against my claim.” An edge of desperation entered Bilbo’s voice as he tried to make him understand, but Thorin’s eyes were clouding over. 

 

“Against your claim?! Your claim! You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!” Bilbo took a step back at the fury that radiated from his intended, he’d felt dragon fire but it was nothing to this. Thorin threw away his bow and arrow and strode towards Bilbo, the other Dwarves still frozen in place by the revelation. 

“I was going to give it to you. Many times I wanted to, but...” Bilbo tried, backing up further

 

“But what, thief?!”

 

“You are changed, Thorin! The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!” Bilbo had to hold his tongue from mentioning their suit, for all that the company had accepted it he did not want Thorin to lash out in his anger and break his heart further. 

“Do not speak to me...of loyalty!” Bilbo’s heart was breaking all the same as Thorin turned to the company and commanded them “Throw him from the rampart!”

Bilbo’s heart stopped entirely as he watched his lover, though the company did not obey Thorin’s order it barely registered. Thorin had ordered him thrown, almost definitely killed. Had ordered his friends to kill him, over a rock! 

“DO YOU HEAR ME?!” Thorin roared when none followed his order, he grabbed Fili’s arm, but his nephew shook him away not looking at his uncle and king. 

“I will do it myself!” he mutters as he lunges for Bilbo, the poor Hobbit frozen in terror and heartbreak as Thorin bellows “CURSE YOU!”

Bilbo doesn’t hear the protests from the company, doesn’t see them leap forward to protect him. All he hears in Thorin’s words, all he sees is the madness in his lover’s eyes, and all he feels is those once gentle fingers which had stroked his cheek in the darkness of Mirkwood following their first kiss wrap painfully around his throat. 

Bilbo couldn’t breathe, tears fell from his eyes as grabbed Thorin’s wrist. He must have looked like a gaping fish as he tried to breathe, Thorin’s hand around his small throat like an iron cuff. His head started to pound with the flow of blood trapped, his eyes locked with Thorin’s until the Dwarf lifted and shook him, holding him over the ramparts and ready to drop him. 

Bilbo watched Thorin’s mouth move, but he couldn’t hear the words. His vision was starting to go hazy but Bilbo lifted his hand, he was starting to lose strength, to Thorin’s cheek just as he had when he’d accept Thorin’s suit. He had no breath to speak but with tears flowing down his cheeks, darkness creeping in, Bilbo let all the love and sorrow fill his gaze for a moment before closing his eyes and waiting for darkness to take him. 

What he did not expect was for the pressure around his throat to be released and to be enveloped in warm thick arms, arms he knew well. With his eyes closed he’d not seen the moment the madness receded or the intense regret and shame which followed it. Thorin dropped to his knees with Bilbo held in his arms, struggling to regain his breath. The Dwarven king shook with tears of his own, apologies spilling from his lips in both common and Khuzdul, silence surrounded the pair. Oin took Bilbo from Thorin gently and began to check his airways, the King strode from the Ramparts back into the mountain. 

Fili stepped forward in Thorin’s absence. 

“We will have no more violence this day. We are Dwarves of our word, we will treat with you but not at this time. Our kin approach from the Iron hills, we will await their arrival and meet with you tonight. I trust this is acceptable?” Fili received a nod from the parties below which now included Gandalf, he turned to see Dain’s army approach and then he too left the ramparts followed by the rest of the company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading, this story is still in it's development stages. I have tried re-starting it 3-4 times already and have decided to start posting to gauge reaction/get feedback. Originally this was all designed to happen about halfway through the story but I kept getting stuck so please let me know what you think.

From there Fili took over the negotiations with the Men and Elves, truly proving himself the crown prince. He took Balin and Kili with him to meet Dain and then to treat with the Men and Elves, he listened to what each party felt was their due and made his stand. Prince Fili, Golden Guardian of the Lonely Mountain made a name for himself that day to all the peoples present. 

In an Elven tent he sat regally with his brother at his shoulder, Dain and Balin seated beside him. Around the table sat Gandalf, Thranduil with his advisors and Bard with a few other prominent leaders of Laketown. 

“Erebor is our long awaited home, I am sure you can understand that this is an emotional time for us all. I do not excuse my uncle’s actions but hope that you may give patience in this time for us all…”

When some of those gathered had taken this as their chance to interrupt it had taken but a look from Kili to silence them, a look and a carelessly thrown knife that landed harmlessly by the speaker’s ear. 

“As I was saying, Erebor has been inhabited by a dragon for longer than I need point out. The mountain itself is in desperate need of repair and our own Dwarrow number only 12, more importantly though is what is inside the mountain.” Again it looked like some wanted to call out, bring the topic of gold to the forefront but Kili began to clean his nails with yet another knife and effectively silence any interruptions from then on. 

“I know that your focus is on the treasure of Erebor, on gold and gems. Ours is not. Inside the halls of Erebor, which we cannot yet reach due to the instability of the mountain, lay the remains of our kin. Dwarrow who were trapped in the Mountain by Smaug, those that were not eaten or burnt were starved to death slowly.” Fili looked directly at Bard “Just as your people starve now, so did ours. We ask time to stabilise the mountain and recover our kin, I have heard your complaints and we will act on them as we can but sorting through the treasury for specific gems has done no one any good” this he directed at Thranduil. 

“What then do you expect us to do, Prince of Erebor? Let our children starve?” Shouted one of the Laketown women, fear clearly clouding her judgement. 

“Madam,” Kili piped up, a sweet smile on his face that did not reach his eyes “I did not know that human babes were so different to ours, how is it that they can survive off eating gold?” The mother’s face paled considerably. 

“What my brother is trying to ask is how would gold solve your immediate problem? We have no more food than you, it is my understanding that we may even have less. The only ones with lasting supplies is our kin from the Iron Hills and Thranduil’s people should either chose to help. We could give you gold, it reeks of dragon and seems to be laced with dark magic but you are welcome to it if you believe it will sustain your peoples.” Fili looked at the leaders and then to Gandalf. 

“What I believe we do now is ignore the gold and discuss the more pressing issue, there is an army coming. If we do not solve this issue then there is little point squabbling over riches, we will all be dead before we can enjoy them.”

From there they discussed battle tactics and man power, it was agreed that the Elves would support the men and that the Dwarves would support their kin. That the front halls of Erebor would be used for the healing tents and that once the battle was ended and Gandalf could inspect and attempt to cleanse the treasure hoard but for now it would be off-limits to all. 

As the Dwarves prepared to leave Bard pulled Kili aside. 

“How fairs the Hobbit, my children fear for his safety.” 

“Bilbo is well, he recovers swiftly. Your people owe him a great debt, Dragon-slayer, do not forget that. He has given up much to give you this chance, prove his faith well founded” Kili then re-joined his brother in walking back to the mountain, the pair had grown and changed during the journey but nothing had prepared them for today. To see firsthand what gold sickness could do, it sickened them to think of. The pair had locked away their emotions to deal with what had to be done, finally understanding their uncle a little better but neither knew how to face their uncle or their Hobbit upon returning to the mountain. 

 

X~X~X~X~X

 

Deep within the mountain Thorin was at war, not with Elves or Orcs but with his own mind. He gazed in disgust at his own hands, hands which had once tenderly rustled copper curls and stroked them till the owner slept, hands that held that same person aloft ready to throw him to his death. However even as his stomach turned in revulsion for the use of violence against his One, a part of his mind told him it was justified. That if his betrothed couldn’t be faithful and loyal than what use did he have for such a partner, that the Halfling would be more useful as compost. 

Such thoughts warred within him, even as his Hobbit sought him out after finally being able to slip away from his overprotective guardians in the company. Dori, Dwalin and Bifur in particular had not taken well to the large bruise forming on his throat. Bilbo had “Borrowed” one of Ori’s scarfs and slipped away to look for his lost lover and when he found the crumpled Dwarrow he realised that Thorin was lost in more ways than one. 

Bilbo approached Thorin slowly, as one might a wild animal. He didn’t know why he bothered as it appeared Thorin couldn’t hear him anyway, so far gone into his thoughts was the King under the mountain. The Hobbit knelt in front of his intended, watched sadly as Thorin stared at his shaking hands in frozen horror. Tears pricked at Bilbo’s eyes, he knew that the Dwarf he’d seen on the battlements was not his Thorin. Slowly he slipped his smaller hands into Thorin’s, watching as the Dwarf jumped with surprise having not realised that Bilbo was there at all. 

Red rimmed eyed lifted and locked with Bilbo’s even as those bigger hands closed around the Hobbit’s smaller ones. Bilbo smiled gently, he had never seen his lover look so broken. Leaning forward he tapped their foreheads together gently, keeping their hands joined and their eyes locked. 

“Hey there you,” He whispered soothingly, he could see the war in Thorin’s eyes but he could also see that clear pale blue, which always reminded him of Spring Starflowers, settling in them. Thorin’s eyes had been darker on the ramparts, almost an Iris blue. 

Thorin released a breath and squeezed Bilbo’s small hands, they stayed like that until their muscles ached and the sun had risen again. Neither said another word, simply soaking in the return of their lover. When the sun had risen and the pair was finally forced to move on aching knees and ankles it was then that Thorin took Bilbo’s hand and looking deep into his eyes said his first words since the rampart. 

“I can never atone enough; to raise my hands against you how can I ever…?” He trailed off even as Bilbo tugged at his hand. 

“You were unwell, but you are better now. I did something just as terrible; I betrayed your trust and gave you a big shock. If you can forgive me, I can forgive you…” Bilbo knocked their heads together again in a Dwarven sign of affection, though not nearly the way the other’s in the company were prone to do. He felt Thorin nod and a smile tugged at his lips. “Then it is done, let us return to the company and our lives.”

Hand in hand they did just that, Thorin discovering from Balin how his nephews had stepped up in his absence was beyond proud. Bilbo was introduced to Dain and his overenthusiasm by being enveloped in a giant boar hug, the rest of the company choosing to ignore the appearance of Ori’s scarf around the burglar’s throat. 

At least for now.


	3. Chapter 3

As they prepared for war Bilbo kept much to himself, all of the Dwarrow had unanimously agreed that he was to be banned from all fighting. Bilbo had been told in no uncertain terms that if a single member of the company saw him take even one furry footstep into the battlefield than he’d be forcibly dragged back and sat on by Bombur, Bilbo decided it was better not to risk it. 

The Hobbit knew that his Dwarves were simply trying to protect him so he took their mothering with a pinch of salt and settled himself prepping supplies both medical and eatable, and if he always seemed to have a Dwarven shadow when he walked around camp then he refused to comment on it. Most of the time it was Bofur, who it seemed had made it his personal mission to ensure the Hobbit’s continued safety. It appeared that Dwalin was doing much the same with Thorin, though none of the company would acknowledge it. 

Fili and Kili continued to lead the company as Thorin took a back seat in proceeding, still somewhat preoccupied with recent events. Both lads had yet to speak a word to either their Uncle or their resident Hobbit, they would look at Thorin with a mixture of pity and anger but if they let their eyes wander to Bilbo, all they could focus on was the scarf and what it hid. Their eyes became unreadable with the conflicting emotions and both boys would quickly look away. Bilbo was aware of their unease and thus spent much time away from the Company, he missed them dearly and despite their close proximity the Hobbit felt walls between them. Barriers such as he had not felt since the night they were saved by the Eagles and Thorin finally accepted him as a member of their company. 

It had been three days after all, not such a long time for memories and emotions to fade. The bruise on his neck only became more pronounced each day, now an angry black and purple but soon that too would fade and things could return to how they should be. That was what he hoped for most of all, perhaps after tomorrow’s battle his companions would stop avoiding him and looking at him with eyes brimming with sorrow. 

 

X~X~X~X~X

The morning of the battle was a dark and sombre one, Bilbo stood alone on the ramparts banned from the field. His Dwarves stood with their kin on the field waiting for orders to charge, they stood mingled with Elves and Men alike but Bilbo had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the army approach. Dread gripped him and made breathing difficult as he heard the horns sound and felt the vibrations of thousands of boots marching, Bilbo stood on those cursed ramparts and watched as the battle began. He tried to watch the company but before long he lost sight of them, before long all he could see was blood and death. 

Then he saw Azog, the wretch himself, standing smug on a rise behind his swarm. Astride his cursed Warg, as though he had a right to be proud of the blood bath below. In truth the battle was deadlocked, both armies fighting for the upper hand but neither giving way however, now Azog had made a target of himself and within moments Bilbo was able to distinguish distinct forms from the mass of brawling bodies. Both thanking and cursing his strong eye sight Bilbo realised he must risk being crushed by Bombur after all, Fili and Kili were being pushed towards Azog by the battle and neither seemed to realise the danger they were in. 

With Sting strapped to his waist Bilbo slipped on his ring and ran, he bolted through the already packed medical tents and skidded through the last lines of defence, mostly archers and medical runners who were not bothered much by an invisible Hobbit. It wasn’t until he got towards the real battle that Bilbo began to question his sanity, running into battle with nothing but a ring, a letter opener and a bit of chainmail. Cursing himself he ran towards the boys, or at least where he’d last seen them. 

Bilbo tried to avoid as much of the fitting as he could but every so often he’d be stopped by an orc or goblin, usually fighting or sneaking up on a Dwarf or Man. Bilbo was forced to do what any decent Hobbit would do in the same situation, hamstring the brute and keep running. Bilbo made fair progress across the field, with everyone focused on their own battles no one was looking for an invisible enemy. At least not until Bilbo slipped up, quite literally. He was running through a particularly nasty fight of 6 orcs to 2 Dwarves and as he tried to slip past, one of the Orcs over swung his crude blade and knocked the Hobbit in the back, the blow caused Bilbo to slip on a rather gruesome pool of blood and drop into the middle of the fight. Winded and dizzy he tried to regain his footing but found he was unable to do much more than dodge blows from Orc and Dwarf alike but with that same crude sword narrowly missing one of the Dwarrows Bilbo was forced to reveal himself by blocking the blow, lest he be skewered himself. Ring tucked swiftly in a pocked Bilbo stood with the Dwarves against their remaining enemy, now more cautious with the presence of an unexpected additional enemy. He’d received confused looks from the Dwarrow but they were soon forgotten as the Orc lunged at them, Bilbo was still not considered proficient with a blade but he used his size to his advantage and dived at the nearest orc, effectively sliding between the beast’s legs and stabbing him from behind. This left the count to 2 against 3 so Bilbo took off running again leaving the Dwarves to finish of the fight, his priorities lay elsewhere. 

It took him longer than he would have liked to find Fili and Kili, and when he did the Hobbit had to stop himself from audible growling. Slipping on his ring once more the Hobbit approached the boys from a neutral side, Fili laying prone in the bloody mud with Kili kneeling over him with tears sliding down his cheeks. Both lads where covered in more blood than Bilbo wanted to think about but he couldn’t do much for them at this moment because not a metre away stood Thorin and Azog, weapons locked. It was clear that the Orc was intent on the boys, keen to finish the job and destroy Thorin’s heirs but said Dwarf was getting in his way. 

Thorin was also covered in blood, his majestic hair now matted and filthy and his armour dented and torn. Bilbo knew he had to do something but he didn’t know what. His heart was spilt, protect Thorin’s body or his heart. With tears burning Bilbo turned his back on his lover and knelt beside the fallen Prince, Bilbo leant in and focused on Fili’s chest. Placing a hand in the centre of his chest, his ear to the boy’s lips, Bilbo waited and was rewarded with a strangled gasping breath. It was weak and certainly not healthy but the young Dwarf was indeed alive, Bilbo slipped off his ring and grabbed Kili’s hand. Startled and sobbing Kili gaped at the Hobbit, Bilbo tried to ignore the sounds of the ongoing battle behind him. 

“Can you run Kili? Can you run carrying your brother?” Bilbo whispered harshly, clenching his fist around his ring. When the brunette Prince failed to answer Bilbo shook him slightly. “Fili is alive and breathing but he needs medical attention, Kili can you get him to the medical tent?”

The young Prince closed his mouth, his eyes becoming determined, and nodded. Bilbo helped Kili get his brother onto his back, using his own belt to strap the Dwarrow in place. Bilbo held out his hand, the one clenching his magic ring and his chest tightened. “T-take this Kili, wear it and you’ll be invisible. Take care of your brother and get him to the Elves, look after that ring because I’ll be coming back for it.” It felt like he was cutting off his own hand as Bilbo dropped the ring in Kili’s hand and watched the Dwarrow slip it on; it took everything he had not to snatch the trinket back. All that stopped him was the thought that it’d be returned or he’d be dead, Kili gave Bilbo one last nod and to Bilbo’s relief both boys disappeared. He’d been hoping the ring would work for Fili too but hadn’t been sure, with the ring and the boys gone Bilbo felt a dull ache settle in his chest. 

With dread Bilbo turned to the battle behind him, eyes seeking out Thorin but he was gone. Behind him the battle raged but Azog and Thorin were nowhere to be seen. Bilbo looked around franticly but the only evidence that either had ever stood behind him were the splatters of blood. Blade ready at his side Bilbo ran back out into the swarms of Goblins and Orcs, he no longer had his ring but his Hobbit stature worked almost as well. Bilbo never stopped running, never stopped searching for Thorin. He sliced at Orcs and Goblins alike but never stayed still long enough to be drawn into a fight, even as the horns sounded that reinforcements had arrived Bilbo ran searching for the Pale Orc and his Dwarven King.


	4. Lost & Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is ended but how will Bilbo find his Dwarves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter But I'm going to give you 2 updates for being so awesome! Thankyou to everyone who left Kudos and comments!! It's what keeps me going!

The battle ended as one might expect, the victors lifted their weapons and voices in exhausted pride while the defeated slunk off to nurse their wounds. This time the combined forces of Dwarves, Elves and Men walked away conquerors but not without their share of casualties. Bilbo found himself slinking around the medical tents trying to find his Dwarves, the smell of blood and the cries of the injured almost more than the Hobbit could bare. Being so small in stature Bilbo was mostly able to roam unobstructed, popping in and out of tents while looking for familiar faces. He knew he should be helping or getting his own wounds treated but he felt as though his heart would not rest until he knew the fates of his company. 

After losing sight of Thorin and Azog Bilbo had continued to fight as he could, he was not as skilled with a blade as the others on the field but once again he’d used his quickness and height to his advantage. He had seen glimpses of most of the Dwarves at one point or another throughout the battle, Dori had almost had a fit when the small creature slashed the hamstrings of the Orc he was fighting only to lose sight of him when the next wave of enemies charge forward. 

Bilbo was certainly not looking forward to the many lectures he would receive from his friends but if that was the price he paid for saving Fili and Kili, it was more than worth it. 

One by one he found the tents that held his Dwarves; first he found Bifur, Bofur and Bombur and the three seemed in surprisingly good shape. Though each sported some new cuts and bruises all were smiling, Bilbo tried not to gasp when he saw the axe was missing from Bifur’s head and had been replaced instead with a rather large bandage. Not wanting to intrude on the family moment Bilbo continued further into camp, his heart beat settling just a bit. Next, he heard Dori, he gave the tent a wide berth to avoid the mothering Dwarf assuming that if his siblings were well enough to receive Dori’s stern but well-meant lecture then Bilbo could mark them off his list. He found Oin, Gloin and Dwalin together, the healer stitching a rather gruesome wound on the warrior’s face. Apparently one of many injuries if the frustrated sighing and pile of wrappings was any indication, Bilbo thought a moment about slipping into the tent to get his own injuries tended but the thought of those still missing from his list made him hesitate but move on. 

Bilbo was grateful when he found the last of his Dwarves together, though his heart gave a painful lurch to see them silent and unmoving. The heirs of Durin lay together, curled around each other on a pallet, both startlingly pale against the blood-soaked bandages that covered their bodies. Bilbo froze until he saw the shallow rise and fall of their chests. Bilbo crept into the tent to better see its occupants, satisfied that the boys were in no immediate danger Bilbo finally let his eyes skim over a sleeping Balin sitting in a chair nearby and land on Thorin. A strangled sound fell from his lips as he approached his lover, stripped to the waist covered in bruises and bloody bandages. Bilbo reached out to stroke Thorin’s face tenderly, his skin was starkly pale where it wasn’t bruised and sweat beaded on his brow. Ghosting his fingers over his betrothed’s skin Bilbo began to feel lightheaded, Thorin was barely breathing and every breath seemed strained. His face was scrunched in pain but Thorin appeared to be completely unaware of Bilbo’s presence. Without thinking Bilbo began to stroke his love’s hair, slowly smoothing the thick mane back away from his face, the dirty, grit and blood didn’t bother the Hobbit as he watched Thorin slowly relax beneath his fingers.   
A small sigh broke through parted lips as the Dwarf relaxed slightly, the grimace slowly fading from his face. 

Bilbo wasn’t exactly sure how long he stayed by Thorin’s side, he was half aware of the rest of the room but paid it no mind. Even when Balin left only to return with a grumbling Oin, Bilbo gave them little more than a passing glance. He heard the healer talk to him, felt him checking the Hobbit for injuries but nothing registered until Oin tried to steer him away from Thorin. 

“Laddy, we need to get you stitched up. You can return to him soon, he’s not going anywhere.” Bilbo just shook his head and refused to release the Dwarf’s hand. This resulted in more grumbling from Oin as he was forced to tend to Bilbo’s injuries where they stood, it wasn’t a pleasant experience for the Hobbit but he barely noticed the pain as he watched the steady rise and fall of Thorin’s chest.


	5. Unlucky 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flash from the past - here's a chapter from the journey where Bilbo and the company explore some... cultural differences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter to make up for the previous one... an important one for chapters to come... please let me know what you think!

*Several Months Earlier*

In the Shire they had a saying, “Beware the number Thirteen for misfortune always follows it”. Bilbo wasn’t exactly sure where it had started but it was definitely not a Hobbit notion originally, there were stories that came from Bree of death following groups of thirteen, others that claimed it to be an evil number that could be traced back to witches and Black Magic. Most Hobbits did not put a lot of stock into superstitions but over time Shire-folk stopped using the number thirteen, just to be safe, especially once it was pointed out by an unhelpful group in Bree that there are precisely thirteen turns on a hangman’s noose. 

As a member of the esteemed Baggins family Bilbo had no time for such silly superstitions but always made it a point to avoid the risk where possible, it was simply practical. Now, however, the ever-proper Hobbit was beginning to think that the men in Bree and beyond had the right of it, 13 was most definitely a decidedly unlucky number. Especially when you were travelling with exactly 13 foolhardy, narrow minded, stubborn DWARVES!

From the moment Bilbo had left his peaceful smial in the Shire for the unknown of an adventure there was a thought hovering in the back of his mind to be weary but with his own addition and that of the Wizard, Gandalf, Bilbo thought himself quite safe in a number of 15 and continued on. Any and all misfortune from that point was either put down to general lack of planning, the stubbornness of Dwarves, the inability of Wizards to communicate clearly or of course Bilbo’s natural perchance for bad luck. That, of course, was up until they lost said Wizard in Rivendell and suddenly they were 13 Dwarves and a generally unlucky Hobbit, after that Bilbo found himself that much more respectful of old superstitions. 

Bilbo looked amongst his companions as they hiked through the wilderness leaving the last homely house behind, eyes locked forward as the continued on their quest. None had spoken since leaving Rivendell, there was a sense of unease about leaving Gandalf behind but the Dwarves marched with purpose and even a Hobbit could see that they had no intentions of looking back. So, on he marched along with them, his feet firm beneath him and his thoughts heavy. After some time though the silence became too much for this Hobbit and Bilbo dropped back to speak with one of the younger Dwarves, Bilbo still wasn’t accepted by most of the older Dwarves but the younger ones seemed less inclined to disregard him after the Troll incident. 

With that intention, Bilbo found himself walking beside Ori, the young Dwarf asking him questions about knitting and crochet effectively filling the silence and taking Bilbo’s mind off heavier thoughts. Bilbo had been ecstatic to find the lad was interested in crafts, though he should have suspected it from what the young Dwarf was wearing. They discussed patterns and stitches for hours under the ever-watchful eyes of Ori’s elder brothers. Dori and Nori said nothing as Ori and Bilbo chatted but always the Hobbit felt their eyes boring a hole into the back of his head, and yet another unknown pair of eyes attempted to set his jacket on fire. 

Ignoring the shudder that sat just below his skin as they hiked ranges and mountains, traversed plains and slowly put distance between their company and Rivendell. They camped when needed, ate as they walked and generally made for a rather miserable bunch. The further they travelled though, the more lightof heart the Dwarves became until they reached the trail that would lead them though the Misty Mountains. The trail was narrow and dangerous, each step was treacherous and Bilbo found himself walking behind Bofur and in front of Dwalin. As they picked their way carefully along the path the weather began to foul and the sky darken, Bilbo found himself looking at the path ahead. It was thin, if they were lucky a single hobbit could pass mostly unfazed but the Dwarves were sure to struggle. When the rain began, Bilbo revised his opinion as the Dwarves’ boots gave them stability on the slick and slippery rock but his bare, Hobbit feet made each step perilous. 

Bilbo kept his mouth shut and his concentration on his every step, he did not want to fall down the sheer drop directly to his right and so he jumped highest when the lightning cracked overhead only to be followed by the crashing boom of thunder. 

“Hold on!” He heard Thorin yell, but what he expected them to hold on to was a mystery to the drenched Hobbit, especially as the stone began to give way beneath him and suddenly Bilbo found himself falling. Time seemed to slow in that moment, the rain stood still and the lightning almost looked beautiful but then he felt himself ripped out of that infinite moment as he was hauled back onto the ledge by none other than Dwalin. Bilbo tried to thank him but the Dwarf was already trudging on, his rescue forgotten for now. 

“We must find Shelter!” called Thorin, once again calling out rather unhelpful instructions…  
That thought was cut off as a new voice joined the din, this one much closer to Bilbo. 

“Watch out!” yelled Dwalin, his gruff voice edged with something akin to fear.  
Said fear became understandable as the company looked up in unison to see the boulder hurtling towards them at great speed. Each member of the company tried to take cover, pressing against the mountain or ducking and covering their heads, as the boulder hit the mountain side and shattered above them. Shards of stone joined the rain in crashing down over them, Bilbo felt the sting of pain as the debris sliced at his skin.

“This is no thunderstorm; it’s a thunder battle! Look!” came Balin’s voice through the darkness and again eyes turned to the sky and opened wide in amazement and fear.  
Around them were the mountains but they were no longer stationary as they should be, now the mountains were moving and fighting. 

“Well bless me, the legends are true. Giants; Stone Giants!” Bofur exclaimed as a nearby giant ripped another boulder from the top of the mountain.

“Take cover; you fool!” Bilbo was happy to try and take Thorin’s advice, though it was more directed at Bofur, and grabbed onto a small protrusion of rock  
“What’s happening?” Kili yelled, but no one had an answer for him as the battle continued to grow in ferocity. True terror, however, struck when the ground beneath them began to shift and break, separating the company. Bilbo knew that the sound of Fili’s cry and the look on Kili’s face as the pair were separated would haunt him to the end of his days, however brief those days were. 

Each group watched the other praying for a chance to jump to safety, Thorin and Fili’s group managed to move to relative safety on a piece of stationary mountain but unfortunately that did little for Bilbo’s group. As the stone giant beneath them continued to move Bilbo looked at Ori, Bofur and Kili, these Dwarves had been kind to him and now they were likely to die together with him. Even Dwalin, who still stood behind him fierce as ever, had saved the Hobbit’s life for naught. Time slowed again for Bilbo as he watched the wall of the mountain come towards them; he felt a chill in the knowledge that they had failed, up until he was picked up again and thrown forward. Though it seemed he was not thrown by the stone giant but by Dwalin, the larger Dwarf was picking up and throwing each of the occupants of the ledge using his size and strength to every possible advantage. Though the speed with which he moved, for one so large, doing what he could to save the others amazed Bilbo. Bilbo reached out to grab the rock face before him, watching the larger Dwarves fly and fall overhead, only to realise too late that his smaller size would mean he didn’t carry as far as the dwarves and so Bilbo missed the ledge and collided with the rock beneath it. Pain exploded through his head and his body as he hit the wall before him and rubble pelted him from the crumbling giant behind. His fingers grabbled furiously for purchase but found little, the Hobbit could feel his nails ripping and his skin tearing but through the pain he heard the voices of Dwarves above. Bilbo struggled to get air into his lungs to call out but his ribs hurt too much to breathe and his grasp was slipping, he fought to remain on the cliff as his ears noted Bofur was looking for him. 

“Where’s Bilbo? Where’s the Hobbit?”  
“There!” Came Ori’s terrified voice as the young lad threw himself onto the ground and tried to reach Bilbo, Bofur joining his attempt swiftly.

“Get him!” called Dwalin, Bilbo felt himself smile just a little at the big softy… at least until the handhold beneath his fingers gave way and he started to fall again. Bilbo was getting used to falling, though he can’t say practice was making him any better at it. He reached for another handhold as more Dwarves tried to assist, then once again he was being thrown by his coat and into the grabbing hands of so many Dwarves. Bilbo attempted to breathe a sigh of relief until he saw Dwalin struggling to pull Thorin to safety from where he’d clearly slipped while saving Bilbo’s life. Bilbo promised to do something for the Dwarf as he watched Dwalin strain and pull Thorin to safety, for all that Bilbo still held a grudge over his lost dinner he could not deny that this Dwarf was some kind of guardian angel… And then the moment was ruined. 

“I thought we’d lost our burglar.” The gruff guard muttered silently checking the company for numbers and injuries, a skill that seemed to be so deeply ingrained that the Dwarf was no longer aware he did so. 

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” Bilbo felt a part of his heart begin to break anew, he’d thought he was finally making progress with the company, with Thorin in particular. “Dwalin!” The pair stomped off and once again Bilbo was unable to express his thanks to the large Dwarf, though he wasn’t even sure he could speak clearly with the way his lungs burned with every breath and the way his head was still spinning. Bilbo didn’t bother to voice his complaints, though once he would not have hesitated, the Hobbit knew he was not the only one with hurts and that there was nothing to be done until they found shelter anyway. As Bilbo tried to stand he felt his body and the mountain sway in opposing directions, luckily a pair of strong arms encircled the confused Hobbit and led him towards the shelter that had since been found. No one really spoke until they were off the ledge, even then majority hovered in their family groups. Bilbo was deposited besides Ori to await Oin’s attention when the deaf medic was no longer occupied with the bruised and bloodied princelings. 

As they waited and Bilbo’s head began to clear the Hobbit noticed Ori’s injuries, the lad had several cuts and bruises but he seemed to be holding his torso strangely, Bilbo’s guess would be a couple of bruised ribs, possibly a fracture. 

“Guessing you didn’t make the ledge either” Bilbo whispered to the young Dwarf who was startled from his thoughts but gave a wry smile. 

“Not exactly, right on the edge to be precise. Haven’t really gained my weights yet, Mr. Dwalin’s been glaring at me since, I think he’s cross at me for being so slow on the ledge so please don’t mention it to anyone. Especially not my brothers!”

Bilbo just winked and went back to staring at the milling Dwarves. He was aware of Dwalin’s heated observation of the younger Dwarf but suspected it had very little to do with actual annoyance, big softie really. Bilbo planned to simply step back and observe for now but was fully prepare to interfere like any good Hobbit, should the pair be too stone headed for their own good… or happiness. 

“Ori, I just realised I never asked… Are you partnered already?” Bilbo blurted out, he’d later blame the knock to the head for his lack of manners and burning curiosity.  
The young Dwarf looked at him in confusion then understanding and more confusion began to war on his face until the poor lad resembled a prize tomato. “I know that Gloin is married with a wife and has a son but I’ve not thought to ask about anyone else. Are there bonded couples amongst the company? Are they not worried about children?” Bilbo blathered, his head injury contributing heavily now to his lack of verbal filter and the young Dwarf looked about ready to explode. 

“Wha… what?! There aren’t any couples within the company and if they were why would they be worried about Children, there’s no Dwarrowdams within the company!” Ori squeaked getting the attention of nearby Dwarfs who stopped and began to look at the injured pair with confusion and interest. 

“Dwarrowdam? What’s that?” Bilbo surveyed the group in confusion. 

“A female Dwarf or Dwarrow is called a Dwarrowdam Bilbo.” Ori whispered, as though imparting a deep secret and his tone seemed to be begging the Hobbit to drop the subject. 

“What does being a female have to do with it, sure the chances would be higher but I don’t see your point?” Bilbo asked, now it was his turn to be confused. Ori’s face was now going a peculiar shade of purple when Oin finally turned his attention onto them, of course not having heard a word of their discussion. 

“Which of you lad’s is next?” he asked and Ori jumped to his feet, only for his place to be filled by the two princelings, recently freed from the Medic.  
“What did you mean Bilbo? When you were talking to Ori about children?” Asked Fili, his arm tightly wrapped around his brother.

“Did no one ever tell you where babies come from?” added in Kili, his hands subtly clinging to his elder brother’s clothes. 

“I know perfectly well where faunts come from thank you! I think it’s you Dwarves that are confused! A woman indeed!” Bilbo gruffed, children had always been a sore spot for the poor Hobbit as it seemed increasingly unlikely he’d get blessed with his own. 

Both princes looked at each other with confusion but shared a silent nod, shuffling closer to the injured Hobbit. 

“Tell us Mr. Boggins. We don’t know where faunts come from.” Kili asked in a sweet voice, with just the right amount of pleading. 

“I think faunts and Dwarflings, may come to the world a bit differently” Added a new voice, Balin. It seems most of the other Dwarves were now listening in, few even pretending to do otherwise. Bilbo began to blush but his loosened mouth ran off without him. 

“Well it’s all very normal. When two Hobbits love deeply and share a bond they may decide to have children. Few will have children without being bonded, married, first you see. Possible but certainly not respectable…” Bilbo offered, the tips of his ears turning red as he prepared for the more detailed part of his explanation. “When the couple are ready they simply wait for one of them to have their next ‘seeding’ period, they consummate their bond and if they’re blessed they’ll have seeds ready for planting”

“PLANTING?” Both young Dwarves looked thoroughly scandalised while most looked confused, Balin on the other hand looked thoughtful. 

“Laddy… are you telling us that not only are wee bubby Hobbits grown from seeds but that any Hobbit can have child with any other Hobbit, even if they are of the same gender?” Balin always had a way of voicing everyone’s concerns in a logical and answerable manner. 

“Of course, though females tend to have more seeding times and a male-female pair will have a greater chance to conceive but it is not necessary. Is this not the way with Dwarves?

“Unfortunately not lad, to put it in your terminology only female Dwarves have a ‘seeding period’. Often one cannot tell if a female Dwarf is in a fertile period or not, so when a couple wishes a child it may take years to attempt to conceive and some never will. To our knowledge only a male-female pair can conceive in Dwarven couples, and if a couple does conceive then the child is grown within the mother so as to protect it.” Bilbo’s face went white at the thought and he felt like he would be sick. “Not to worry lad, this has always been the way for Dwarrowdam, their bodies are made to carry child.” The hobbit nodded slowly but felt a deep sense of sympathy for Dwarvish women. 

“Bilbo, does that mean you can have children?” Piped up Bofur from his place on watch, there was something unreadable in his gaze… almost like a burning kind of longing but Bilbo didn’t notice in his addled state. 

“Once perhaps. Unfortunately, my mother was infertile, very rare and very sad amongst Hobbit. She was from a very large family and no one knew what caused it but Belladonna Took was unable to have children, most say that’s why she went off adventuring instead. Though she met my father, and they bonded and wed without expecting to have any children for Baggins men don’t seed often. They were lucky and wound up with me, but even that only served to hurt them more. Most Hobbit families have 6-7 children per generation. Anything under 3 is considered terrible news, 1 is unheard of. Most infertile Hobbits will never attempt to have children as there’s a risk of passing the curse onto the fauntlings as seems to be the case for me too. I was gifted with a seeding period as a young Hobbit, too young to act on it and much too young to find a partner willing to risk passing on bad blood. As a Hobbit gets older seeding periods get shorter and fewer, and it seems I have missed my chance. I have not felt a seed in over 5 years, even if I did I would be unable to act on it as no one can nurture a seed alone." Bilbo was completely unaware of the tears that fell silently from his eyes until the drops landed on his hands, despite this he made no move to wipe them away and instead embraced his grief for the first time in a very long time. 

Slowly the surrounding Dwarves went back to their business, though some offered a comforting word or a silent pat on the shoulder to the pained Hobbit. Many of the company now looked upon their Hobbit with a new light and a slow dawning of understanding, some perhaps with a sense of shared grief. Children were clearly as important to Hobbits as they were to Dwarves, though the idea of 6 to a family per generation astounded them. The night soon began to pass, Oin looked over the Hobbit’s injuries tutting loudly and sending him off to bed beside a shamefaced Ori. Bilbo embraced the young lad before he could even stumble through an apology for his outburst and lay down upon his bedroll to sleep, though in honesty there was no chance of rest coming that night. 

X~~X~~X  
   
Slowly the night crawled by and one by one the Dwarves succumbed to sleep, Bilbo counted their snores until he was satisfied that he alone had the night then the Hobbit gained his feet and began to pack silently. With stealth only a Hobbit could possess Bilbo snuck from the cave only to be stopped as he stepped out into the cool night air by a hand wrapping around his wrist.

“Stealing away into the night, Master Burglar?” came the thick molasses that was the voice of one Captain Grumpy-pants, Thorin Oakenshield. His grasp on Bilbo’s wrist like hot iron, burning but unmoving, but Bilbo tried to break his hand free nonetheless. 

“Clearly, now please release me so that I might be on my way. Do not worry, I have taken nothing that wasn’t mine to begin with.” 

“And where exactly do you intend to go?” Questioned the Dwarf, ignoring Bilbo’s request and attempts at freedom.

“Rivendell, if you must know. Lord Elrond extended an invitation to me to remain there and I think I might take him up on his offer.” Bilbo tugged his hand again and Thorin released it but only to step closer to the Hobbit and turning Bilbo physically to face him, the Dwarf’s face looked strained, Bilbo dropped his pack in surprise. 

“You would leave the quest, the Company to go visit Elves?” He spat with disgust and Bilbo’s eyes narrowed, his tongue and strict control still loosened from the blow he’d taken early… at least that’s what he’d say if ever asked about his sudden outburst. 

“No Thorin, Mule Head, Oakenshield. I would not leave this Company to play with Elves. I would leave You, someone who clearly despises me and wishes me gone, for the company of someone who Wants Me Around!” Bilbo shouted, luckily his voice was caught in the mountain wind and though Thorin could hear him well enough little of his anger would make its way to the cave, but that did not mean some watchful eyes hadn’t taken interest in their discussion. 

“How dare you…” Thorin growled only to be cut off again by a rampaging Hobbit. Hobbits were gentle creatures by nature and were more likely to turn the other cheek than not but if you managed to get a Hobbit fuming, you would not be free from their wrath until they allowed it. 

“How Dare I?! How Dare YOU! Mister oh so mighty King under the Bloody Mountain! I came on the Damned quest to help you, because a part of me thought I could and a bigger part thought I Should! I left My home, My books, My nice warm arm chair to follow you and your band of mistrusting, rude, infuriating, loveable Dwarves half way across Middle Earth to Face A Bloody Dragon for no other reason than you say so and you needed Help.” The pair failed to notice that more eyes were watching them now and ears were straining to hear every syllable uttered. “And yes I will admit at times I am less than helpful but I am No Dwarf, You knew when I joined this blasted Journey I had NO experience and instead of teaching me and allowing me to become more useful you Yell at me. You berate me, Mock me, Tell your company how Useless I am and expect me to take it. Well listen Here Buster! I am done taking it from you. I may be no Dwarf but I battled Trolls to help you and yours, I’ve slept on the hard ground and lived off rations when I didn’t have to, I have run from Orcs, suffered injuries and travelled further than any other Hobbit Yet. So You will Step Aside Thorin Oakenshield and allow me to Leave or So help me you will find out just How skilled I am at Conkers!” The Hobbit puffed, his breath coming so fast in his anger that his whole body shook, his face was flushed with rage and his eyes were ablaze with promise. 

However before the Hobbit could make good on his threat he found himself pulled off his feet, clutched chest to chest with a blazing wall of Dwarf and his lips crushed against another’s. It took a moment for Bilbo’s deer startled brain to understand what was happening but when he finally managed to process the fact that Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain was kissing him the Dwarf had already started to pull away. Bilbo didn’t know what to do, this situation was highly improper and unprecedented but not unpleasant. Without thinking the Hobbit reached out and grabbed the first thing he could reach, which happened to be the Dwarf’s braids, and pulled Thorin’s lips back to his own. The response was instantaneous, Bilbo wrapped his legs around Thorin’s waist and in return the Dwarf rolled Bilbo out of sight of the cave and slammed the Hobbit’s back against the mountain face. The kiss was fire, anger and need all in one. 

Unfortunately, as the pair came apart for air Bilbo heard it… the creaking moan of moving stone.  
“Thorin! Something’s wrong.” The pair moved as one, Bilbo unwrapped himself and Thorin lowered him silently. The pair moved back to the cave and then Bilbo noticed the blue shine filling the cave, slowly he drew his sword and looked at Thorin with wide eyes. 

“Wake up! Trouble!” before more than the few feigning sleep could jump to their feet the floor had fallen out from under them. Thorin threw himself forward trying to grab the arm of whomever he could reach but succeeded in only being pulled in after them. Bilbo looked at the pit and didn’t think, he just leaped after the falling Dwarves. Unlucky thirteen indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I'm sorry!!!!


	6. The Birds, the Bees and the Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Ori/Dwalin Fluff because I love them... though this was surprisingly hard to write...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update because you are all so wonderful! Have some Fluff!!!

*ORI/DWALIN INTERLUDE* 

As Ori sat on the poorly made cot in the healing tent, only half listening to her brother’s ranting, her mind wandered to her beloved who was currently getting stitched up by Oin. Ori wasn’t too concerned as she trusted Oin to tend to Dwalin and ensure there was Dwarrow enough left for her to marry when the time came, she knew he was in no real danger which was the only reason she’d allowed herself to be cornered by Dori & Nori once they discovered her. Ori knew the rant was coming, Dori’s face was that particular shade of puce and Nori was nodding emphatically at every other word. Ori sighed, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the battle but the thought of her brothers, her lover and her friends risking their lives while she was hidden away in safety was not something she could stomach. It was also the reason she was unsurprised when Bilbo had made his own entrance into the battle, the threat of being squashed by Bombur paling in comparison to the risk of losing their loved ones. 

This was also the reason Ori had been so adamant on hiding her true gender when they joined the quest, she did not wish to be treated as delicate or precious just because she was a woman. In truth Ori and her brother’s has been hiding her gender for years in Ered Luin, in the beginning it had been for her safety as Female Dwarves were very rare these days and it was not unknown for them to be pressured into marriages at young ages or for them to be spirited away from their families. Ori had been a very small child, and still was on the slight side, but by hiding her gender from outsiders it allowed her to learn how to defend herself and see the world through her own eyes. Ori had little interest in marriage, or bearing children, she knew she was young but she had a great desire for learning. Her brothers both supported this, but Ori suspected that was only a means to keep her away from unknown Dwarrow. Ori knew, deep in her heart of hearts, that if she was to wed she wanted it to be with her One, should she be lucky enough to find them. The other half of her soul and the only person she could ever truly love in That way, she didn’t want to get married off for the sake of their people as others had before her. 

Dori was a protective sort; so he’d much rather his baby sister sat at home but the idea of her being home without her brothers chilled him to the bone. Which was how, with the assistance of Nori, she’d been allowed to join in the Quest at all. Most of the members of the company were familiar to Ori, she’d grown up with many of them at Ered Luin, and none knew her secret so she thought herself safe. That was until she met Mister Dwalin. 

Sure Ori had heard of him often around Ered Luin, his numerous run ins with her brother Nori were infamous. Ori had even met the large Dwarrow when she was little more than a whelp, then her eyes had grown large and she’d been mesmerised by warrior. That was until, like most of the other grown Dwarrow, he’d left Ered Luin to travel and find work. He returned to the town often enough but they’d had no reason to cross paths again; Ori liked to stay home and read as she grew older especially as her body began to change in unpredictable ways and her cover became harder to maintain. 

Now however Ori was not an awkward youngling or an awestricken child; she was a fully grown, awkward and awestricken Dwarrowdam with a crush the size of a Dragon! Her eyes had been drawn to Dwalin the moment he stepped into the tavern where all the company would meet for the first time, recognition began to spark within her. It wasn’t the normal kind but something deeper, a kind of stinging throb within her chest and a longing to embrace him. Ori’s intense response frightened her so when the hulking Dwarrow introduced himself she could do little more than blush and stutter a response before escaping to the other side of the room and remaining as far away from the Warrior as possible. Which was all well and good until they got on the road, then it seemed that everywhere she turned the Warrior was there with his brows crinkled in a frown and looking at Ori with eyes so deep it was like they would swallow her up. 

This only got worse after the run-ins with the Trolls, orcs and Elves. Dwalin decided that the weakest and youngest of the company all needed more training, Ori wasn’t sure which category Dwalin put her into but she was teamed up with Bilbo, Fili and Kili for daily drills and sparing practice. Ori didn’t mind the training, she liked being able to defend herself and she got along well enough with the small Hobbit but Ori found it difficult to concentrate when Dwalin was clearly concentrating on her. This caused her to make careless mistakes and embarrass herself in front of the company and her brothers. She didn’t think her brothers had picked up on her crush but she feared for Dwalin’s safety if they ever did. 

Predictably it was Oin who discovered the truth first, after their run-in with the stone giants and Ori’s more than awkward conversation with Bilbo about their cultural differences she hadn’t been as cautious as she should have been when the healer began to assess her injuries. However, to her great relief, the elder Dwarrow had merely raised a surprised brow and left the matter alone after treating her injuries. Ori realised then that it didn’t bother her so much that the older Dwarf knew, especially as his attitude towards her didn’t change after finding out. 

Ori didn’t get to give her secret much more thought until they settled at Beorn’s home, the company finally had a safe place to rest and actually breathe! It was during this time that Ori realised how the distance between herself and Dwalin had seemed to disappear, literally. She turned around at dinner and realised that she was not sitting between her brothers, as had always been the case, but between Nori and Dwalin. Thinking on it, with a blush settling on her cheeks, she realised that this had been happening for a while and she no longer seemed off put by his presence. Her stomach still did flip-flops whenever he was around but now she found them quite comforting and pleasant, she also noted that Dwalin’s bedroll was set up a lot closer to her own than it had at the beginning of the journey. Finally seeing these signs Ori began to watch the Dwarrow more closely, sneaking glances and occasionally catching his eyed following her just as she followed him. 

After a few days of this Ori decided she’d had enough, as breakfast ended one morning and the Dwarrows began to drift their separate ways Ori gathered her courage and approached Dwalin. She interrupted his conversation with Thorin, her cheeks heating as she considered forgetting her plan entirely, and invited the warrior to take a walk of the gardens with her. There was a grunt in reply and before she knew it Ori was being led by the hand away from the rest of the company, her head shot up and her mouth hung open as she looked at the broad back in front of her and the large hand clasping hers.   
Eventually Ori’s brain kicked back into gear, as they stepped onto the lush grass outside, and she trotted up to Dwalin to keep pace with him rather than be dragged behind like a child. Ori smiled slightly as she felt his pace slow and some of the tension left Dwalin’s body, she hadn’t expected him to be this enthusiastic about a walk. 

The pair walked a while in silence, still hand in hand, until they came across a bench, which Ori in turn dragged the other Dwarf over to and together they sat. It wasn’t long before Ori broke the companionable silence, a smile settled on her lips, and they began to talk of all manner of things. It has amazed Ori how right it felt to be beside Dwalin like this, that was when all the puzzle pieces finally came together. Dwalin, gruff and grumpy, strong and sharp, calloused but caring, was her One. 

Her eyes widened, her cheeks burnt and she turned to the Dwarrow before her with understanding in her eyes only to see it reflected back at her. A small smirk lifted the corners of Dwalin’s beard and before Ori knew what she was doing their lips were joined. The kiss was slow at first, filled with longing at finally finding their other halves. It didn’t stay that way for long though, before Ori knew it she had crawled into Dwalin’s lap and was practically devouring his lips not that he seemed to mind in the slightest. 

Unfortunately they had to pull apart for air eventually, dizzy and breathless they rested their heads together and simply existed together. Once her heart beat had settled back to a normal-ish rhythm and Ori had her breathe back the young scribe leant in beside Dwalin’s ear and whispered her secret, revealing her truth to the Dwarrow who loved her as know other would. She didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t being picked up and twirled around then hugged to the chest of a rather beautiful, muscular Dwarf who was grinning like a fool. Ori felt pure and unadulterated laughter spilling from her in a way that she’d never felt. 

She hadn’t had any interest in Marriage or Children, not until she’d met Dwalin and now she could not wait to make their home in the Mountain and fill their lives with pattering, giggling little Dwarflings. The rest of the company had found out in due course, once her brothers has found out about their Courtship they’d been very vocal about their disapproval which had effective let the metaphoric cat out of the bag. Most of the company were accepting and excited about their relationship, Ori figured that her brothers would come around eventually and for the most part they did. 

Looking at the pair of them now Ori was pretty confident that her brothers were ready to give their approval, they’d both seen Dwalin’s reaction to her appearance on the battlefield and his commitment to protecting her. Most of his wounds came from setting in where Ori herself would have been hurt, if it were anyone else she’d have been insulted by their intervention but she knew that was just the way Dwalin was and she accepted him for who he was just as he did for her. 

Besides, Ori smiled softly to herself despite Dori’s ranting and rested a hand on her mostly flat stomach, it wasn’t just Ori Dwalin had protected on the battlefield not that anyone knew that just yet. 

Ori couldn’t wait to share her newest secret with Dwalin.


	7. When everything was perfect…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues with a bit of fluff

*And Back to the main story, takes place 3 months after BOFA*

 

“Thorin Oakenshield! You put that scone back right now!” Bilbo grouched from across the room, he didn’t need to see his husband-to-be to know that his sticky dwarven fingers hand got into the fresh batch of baked treats, the surprised thump of a dropped scone helped too. 

“Relax Bilbo, I haven’t seen you this nervous since we reclaimed Erebor” Thorin soothed as he wrapped his arms around his beloved. “She’s not a dragon, I swear”

“Oh, that’s comforting! After the stories you and the boys tell she might as well be. Thorin, she’s your sister… is it so bad that I want to make a good first impression?” The nervous Hobbit lent back into the warmth that was Thorin’s chest, the strength he found there reassuring. Today Thorin’s sister, Dis, was due to arrive with a caravan from the Blue Mountains, and was the reason Thorin had delayed their Wedding. Apparently no one wanted to risk Dis’ wrath if they went ahead without her and Bilbo didn’t blame them. Thorin and the mischievous Princes had taken every available opportunity to tell Bilbo all about the Princess, which had only served to make Bilbo exceptionally nervous and more than a little frazzled. He’d been baking out his nerves all morning, he hoped to win over Fili and Kili’s mother the same way he’d won over the boys… with baked goods and general social awkwardness. 

“She will love you, just as I do. You forget that my sister and I are very similar, my only fear is that she will attempt to spirit you away from me… I don’t think my poor Dwarrow heart would be able to bare it!” Thorin mused melodramatically as he nuzzled his Hobbit’s neck affectionately. Quest Thorin and Peace Time Thorin were almost two different people but Bilbo liked this side of his fiancé that only he and a few others were privy to. 

The aftermath of the battle had been immense but after they’d mourned and honoured their dead, removed the remains of allies and enemies both, a strange quiet had settled over the mountain. The wounded began to heal slowly, many of the company now sporting dashing new scars to show off. Bilbo thanked the Valar ever night that none of his new family had been taken from him but the road to recovery, both physical and mental, was a long one.   
Balin and Thorin had finished the negotiations and treaties with the Elves and Men. Both Gandalf and Bilbo were permitted to sit in, Gandalf as a mediator and Bilbo because Thorin glared at anyone who opposed until the Hobbit had been permitted to stay. Fili and Kili were happy to see their Uncle taking back his role as leader though Bilbo could not help but notice how their eyes had lost the innocent sparkle they once held. The Hobbit wasn’t sure if this was a result of the battle or the events before it, either way he was happy that that both lads were healing well and the company as a whole seemed intent to let sleeping wargs lay. Bilbo and Thorin had not spoken more on the incident over the ramparts, or of their discussion within the mountain, but the Hobbit often found Thorin focusing on his neck. His eyes usually filling with sadness or guilt Thorin would often unconsciously touch Bilbo’s throat, running his fingers over the Hobbit’s exposed skin as they lay down to sleep, nuzzling him or kissing him there was also becoming increasingly common. It saddened Bilbo to see his lover still troubled by this but he let it go, knowing Thorin would not appreciate him opening that jar of worms right now. 

“Well if you don’t keep your fingers out of my kitchen I might let her spirit me away!” Bilbo grumbled as he pulled himself away from Thorin’s addictive warmth and began cleaning up the kitchen while the last of the mince pies cooled on their racks and the honey cakes finished in the oven, this caused him to miss the way Thorin’s eyes flashed possessively and his fingers twitched at the loss of their Hobbit. 

“Evil little Hobbit” Thorin muttered leaving the kitchen to his fussy other half and preparing himself for the whirlwind that was his sister, he had not lied to Bilbo in that he was sure his sister would love the little Halfling… as to how she would react to her own brother, well that was another thing. Thorin had it on good authority his younger sister still held a grudge about him taking her sons on his quest and almost not returning them, he was expecting the injuries of the sons to be visited upon their Uncle. Cringing, the brooding dwarf looked at his Hobbit with unadulterated love; he knew that with his One by his side he’d be able to suffer his sister’s wrath. That or distract her with adorable Hobbit-y charm, that was his backup plan. 

Walking slowly to the balcony that attached to their suite, a rather lovely set of rooms in the Royal Wing that had mercifully suffered minimally during Smaug’s occupancy of the mountain, Thorin stepped around Bilbo’s lovingly tended potted garden and looked out at the oncoming caravan. Soon Dis would return and what remained of his family would again be under one roof, where he could protect them.

“It’s almost time, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked from the doorway, it was more a statement than a real question but Thorin answered with a nod nonetheless.

“They will arrive within the hour so I’d best head down, and you my dear burglar had best get cleaned up. Imagine the King’s Consort walking the halls of Erebor looking like a baker, or worse a Grocer!” Thorin joked, his expression thoroughly scandalised. 

“If only your subjects could see you now, His Royal Grouchyness… why your reputation as a brooding monarch would be thoroughly destroyed. Off with you now, I’ll be here when you get back” Leaning up onto his tiptoes Bilbo placed a gentle kiss onto his Dwarf’s lips, which ended in a deep and bruising embrace that left the pair of them panting for breath. There was a fire burning in Thorin’s eyes that Bilbo thorough intended on answering; that was until a knock sounded at their door and Bilbo knew that Thorin’s nephews had come to pick him up. The knocking thing was new for the rambunctious boys but it was of their own insistence, ever since they walked in on Thorin and Bilbo kissing rather passionately in the kitchen moments away from becoming less clothed and more intimate some weeks back. Since then there was always 3 overly loud knocks before either Prince dared enter their Uncles’ rooms, not that either inhabitant was complaining about the semblance of privacy offered to them. 

By normal Dwarvish standards the pair should not be kissing like this or living together let alone doing the other things they do together. A Dwarvish courtship had certain rituals and traditions, but the pair had decided on a Dwarvish Wedding and a Hobbit courtship (if for no other reason than they couldn’t get away with a Hobbit wedding as Thorin was King and neither planned to wait long enough for a proper Dwarvish courtship after the journey). Most of the company and the Dwarrows who remained from the Iron Hills had supported the idea; however Bilbo suspected it had more to do with the longing glances and general needy air that enveloped the pair when they were separated for long. Bilbo had it on good authority that Thorin had been unbearable when they were separated after the war, it seemed many of the mountain’s occupants were happy to overlook certain improprieties to not have Thorin skulking around the mountain growling at people again.   
Bilbo missed the Shire but he was content with making Erebor his new home if it meant get could stay with his Dwarves. Bilbo had sent appropriate letters home to ensure his belongings were cared for and his home kept safe, he hoped to one day take Thorin back to the Shire so that he might learn to enjoy it in times of peace. Gandalf had also promised to check in with Bilbo when he could after his gracious offer of an escort home was refused. 

Bilbo dusted his hands on his apron and offered the boys a smile and a wave as they dragged a reluctant Thorin from the room without another word. The Hobbit then padded around the suite aimlessly cleaning up before heading to clean himself up, despite Thorin’s reassurances Bilbo felt a ball of tension resting in his stomach. Bilbo had to wonder just which Thorin Dis resembled.


	8. Or was it…?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And So we meet Dis!

Later when Bilbo was finally introduced to Dis the Burglar had his answer, Princess Dis stood shoulder to shoulder with her brother and held herself with an air of Dignity that the Hobbit could never expect to match. The family resemblance was strong with the Princess sharing Thorin’s dark locks, though hers lacked the strips and speckles of grey that made Thorin’s mane so full of character. Her hair was pulled back into a clasp similar to Kili’s but with thick yet intricate braids falling to either side of her face, each clasped with a simple silver bead, and her beard dusted her jawline gently. Her nose was smaller and more angular, her eyes sharper but sharing the piercing blue of her brother’s and despite the distinctly different beauty standards between Dwarves and Hobbits Bilbo had to admit the Princess was stunning. 

Even with her dusty, faded traveling clothes, simple accessories and plentiful weaponry Bilbo could see the grace of born royalty in her but one look at her face as she listened to her sons chatter at her, one hanging off each arm, and Bilbo’s anxiety melted away. When the lads rushed over their Uncle to introduce Bilbo as “our Burglar Mr. Bilbo Boggins” Bilbo tried to ignore the way Thorin’s face creased with annoyance, even as Princess Dis dragged him into a surprise bone crushing hug. 

“I believe I have a great deal to thank you for Master Baggins” she accentuated his name and Kili giggled in a way Bilbo hadn’t heard him do in months, Dis released him and looked into the Hobbit’s stunned eyes. “Thanks to you I have come home to find both of my boys mostly intact, I do not think I could ever thank you enough.” 

Bilbo spluttered at the earnest sincerity in her crystalline eyes “No, no not at all. I barely did anything, it was the company who protected me most of the time… they’re good boys really, when they try and oh well… ummm… you’re welcome?” Bilbo floundered until at last Dis nodded and released the blushing Hobbit. 

“As we are to be family I insist that you call me Dis, I do not care for formality in family, and I shall call you Bilbo. Perfect, now I have been told that you are marvellous baker and I would like nothing better than a cup of tea and to put my feet up after the journey…” And so whirlwind Dis descended, Bilbo was left with no choice but to go along with her requests as he was quite unable to get in a word edgewise let along a protest but she couldn’t help but notice her steeling refusal to so far as acknowledge her own brother. 

As they sat around the parlour of Bilbo & Thorin’s suite, drinking tea and nibbling on the treats Bilbo had made, Dis continued to ignore Thorin, even as she began to discuss their upcoming wedding. 

“It will have to be a rather grand affair, which means we will have to wait a few more months at the very least. Not only will it be the first Ereborian wedding since the reclaiming but it will be a royal one at that and to the infamous Bilbo Baggins no less. Every detail will need to be perfect; it will be a sign to the people of Erebor that peace has finally come to the Mountain. Now I need to know if there are any Hobbitish traditions we need to observe, especially if I’m to plan this in such a short amount of time…”

“Dis…” Thorin interjected but his sister continued to ignore him. 

“Of course you’ll need to wear something appropriate to both cultures, we’ll work on that but I think you would look positively fetching in the House of Durin colours…”

“Really Dis we don’t need…”

“We’ll need to let your hair grow some more so that it can be braided.” Dis lifted her hand to briefly examine the soft curls of Bilbo’s hair but before she could make contact Thorin had a firm hold of her wrist, his face was set in fierce displeasure as the occupants of the room turned to face him. Fili and Kili shared a look of fearful apprehension, Bilbo was simply stunned but Dis herself steeled her face into stony indifference. 

“I would speak with you alone.” Thorin ground out, it was clearly not a request but Dis did not move a muscle. 

“Thorin…!” Bilbo cried shaking himself out of his surprised stupor, the look on Thorin’s face was one he hadn’t seen since the journey to Erebor and he never expected it to be pointed at Thorin’s own sister. 

“Fili, dear, would you be a treasure and take your brother and Bilbo to the Library” Dis interrupted, her voice calm and imperial “It seems that your Uncle and I have matters to discuss.” Fili nodded and dragged Bilbo and Kili from the room as quickly as possible. 

 

X~X

 

Once the door clicked closed behind her sons and brother-in-law to be Dis let her mask fall, her face finally showing the burning rage within her as she ripped her wrist out of Thorin’s stony grasp. 

“Well met King Under the Mountain” Dis commented sarcastically looking at the Dwarrow before her. “Will you attempt to throw me from the ramparts too brother?”

“Perhaps I should” Thorin growled “I see what you are trying to do! To undermine me, to take my throne and my consort as your own! You will not have them! You will not even touch them!” Thorin spat out, his eyes flashing with rage and his fists clenched as though ready to strike.

“I would see you try Thorin, It amazes me how far you have fallen. I do not want your crown, but I will take it from you if I need to for the sake of Erebor and our people. This King before me is not the brother I watched leave Ered Luin with my children in tow, nor is he the Prince I followed as we deserted our home to Dragon Fire.”

“I am King Under the Mountain, how dare you speak to me thus. If we were not kin I would have you in irons for such treason” Thorin’s eyes had fully glazed over and his body was visibly shaking, Dis wondered if he’d simply throw himself over the table and strike her down. She planted her feet and glared at her brother with disgust. 

“Do as you will, I am simply glad the Frerin is not here to see the monster you have become. He would be so very disappointed in you.”

And just as quickly as the rage had come it melted away, Thorin’s eyes cleared and he sank into his chair as though he no longer had the energy or the will to keep standing. His body continued to shake with excess adrenaline but it was clear that Thorin had come back to himself and was equally disgusted in his words. Part of Dis wanted to comfort her clearly distressed kin; the other part was filled with righteous rage over his actions and threats. Instead she also sank into her chair and watched as Thorin buried his head in his hands. 

“Speak and I shall listen brother…” she encouraged gently and waited, Thorin seemed to war within himself for the right words to say. Her emotionally constipated eldest brother had always struggled with emotive words, his speech could inspire crowds and send droves eagerly to war but the gentler or sadder words were often lost to him. 

“You are right sister, a monster is indeed what I have become. To threaten you, to have laid hands on my One in anger… I see threats around every corner and schemes in the eyes of those I trust…” Thorin paused and looked up at his sister, her carefully blank face and her own crystal blue eyes mirror images to his own. “I do not know what is wrong with me Dis, I hate what I am becoming. There is a great darkness within me, I have always known it but since returning to Erebor it seems to have grown more prominent. At times it overwhelms me, it’s like my mind is consumed with the ugliest of thoughts and I can’t see the light… but then I see Bilbo and the light returns. Instead of the Darkness I am flooded with a need to protect him, to hold him and never let go. As though, if I take my eyes off him for a moment, he will be taken from me. Spirited away or worse. At times I simply want to lock him away in our chambers, lest anyone try to steal him. It is something that I have never felt before and I do not know what to do.” Thorin again let his face fall into his hands in disgust at his own thoughts. 

“Thorin, we all have darkness within us. Even your Mister Baggins has his own demons to battle, but we cannot allow it to consume us. Unfortunately we of the line of Durin suffer it worse than most, I hear you brother but you know as well as I what your torment is. For our Grandfather it was Gold, for Father it was mother and Frerin, for me it will always be Fili and Kili but for you it is Erebor and your Hobbit. It is The Sickness brother; you cannot give in to it, you must fight it every day of your life but if you do then you will find that the darkness recedes. You just need to remember what you’re fighting for, who gets hurt if you stop…” 

Dis was no longer looking at Thorin but now into the depths of the cold tea remaining in her cup and to memories of her own demons, of Frerin’s lifeless body as he was laid to rest, of Vili’s last smile as her love left her, of the sickening rage which filled her every time she saw tears in the eyes of her boys. The Darkness of the Durin line was a thing to be feared. 

“You will get through this brother, if you are willing to fight for it. I will help you and so will your Master Baggins, you are not alone anymore.”

Thorin finally looked up at his sister again and once again saw his own eyes reflected back at him, pain and darkness included.


	9. Finding Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life moves on in Erebor, Bilbo has issues with Dwarves and cultural ... differences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay soooo just a bit of life in Erebor, this fic moves a bit slower compared to my other one but please stick with me!

Bilbo didn’t feel well, he was light headed and nauseous and couldn’t sleep. And it was all Dwalin’s fault! Well Dwalin and Ori’s fault… and Mahal and generally all Dwarves in general! Bilbo was sick of Dwarves And their strange reproductive habits. 

It’s not that Bilbo wasn’t happy for Ori, the young lass was practically glowing with joy these days as her once tiny stomach grew rounded and full. That, however, was precisely the problem. Every time Bilbo caught sight of the rounding Dwarrowdam he remembered his original, and more recent, education on Dwarven reproduction and the mental imagery maked him sick to his own stomach. 

The idea of a Dwarfling growing Inside poor Ori was more than he could stand and each day the little babe was getting bigger and bigger, pushing Ori’s stomach outward and her organs upward and basically taking over her entire body. Bilbo had, in all Hobbity maturity, taken to avoiding the pregnant (and what a strange word that was!) Dwarf. He sent baked treats to her and Dwalin almost every day but otherwise kept his distance, none of the Dwarves had mentioned it and with the way the company was fussing around the poor lass Bilbo doubted it had even been noted. 

Dwalin was a sight to behold, going from glowing with fatherly pride to shaking with concern over his spouse in a matter of seconds and then back again. He was nothing if not an attentive partner, though both he and Dori had fainted when Ori shared the news of their little bundle of joy. Dori had demanded they wed immediately but Ori had, surprisingly, put her foot down. As the young Dwarrowdam pointed out they stood in the aftermath of a battle, in the ruins of a dragon ravaged city and this babe was coming whether Dori liked it or not so what was the point of a rushed wedding? 

Ori had demanded, which had been a shock, that when they get officially married it would be when their child was able to participate and only after Bilbo and Thorin’s own wedding. This had then turned the company on the unsuspecting couple, which had only increased Bilbo’s nervousness when Thorin disappeared to “King” and left Bilbo to fend off their friend and his sister. 

After that Bilbo took to hiding out in his and Thorin’s room a lot more, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to marry Thorin but that he was a simple Hobbit and he wanted a simple Hobbit wedding with his friends and family and Bilbo had to admit that he was becoming very home sick. The occasional letters he received from his friends and family back in the Shire were not nearly enough to sustain him for long, so Bilbo took to gardening. It started with potted plants on the balcony of his and Thorin’s suite. However his pots soon became a maze that took up far too much space, he then started some herb and vegetable patches near the entrance to the mountain that then helped supply the kitchens, but still his hands itched for the feeling of fresh soil under his fingers. 

Thorin spent a great deal of time away from their rooms, he was the reigning Monarch after all and with his sister now by his side they were making great leaps and bounds in the restoration of Erebor. Bilbo didn’t worry though because every night Thorin slipped into their bed, placed a linger kiss on his brow and held him like he was the most precious thing in all of Middle Earth. Bilbo just missed feeling useful, missed having something to occupy his time with, and if he continued to bake at his current rate then all the Dwarves of Erebor would be the size of Bombur before next Winter. So Bilbo went to Dale, originally he hadn’t even really been planning to do more than check on the restoration progress but while talking with Bard it became clear that the town of men could use some assistance with their crops. 

From then on Bilbo went to Dale almost every day and threw his efforts into the soil surrounding the Lonely Mountain. Bard gave him a few teams to direct as he wanted but for the most part Bilbo worked blissfully alone, away from the overly tall Men or the overbearing yet loveable Dwarves, away from discussions of Babies and Weddings, out in the fresh air with his hands buried in soil instead of before an oven buried in flour. 

The sneaky Hobbit purposely didn’t tell any of his Dwarves about his new project, he knew they would only get possessive or tell Thorin. Bilbo didn’t want to stress his lover for no good reason so he took to slipping out of the mountain or making excuses to visit Dale and as the Great Burglar of Erebor his efforts were found out within the space of a week. Which is why he now found himself with a surly Dwarrow escort wherever he went, it was usually a member of the company unimpressed with being left out of Bilbo’s shenanigans but utterly uninterested in helping. Other times however it was Dwarrows whom Bilbo did not know, he was introduced to his baby sitters but the Dwarves themselves would never say a word, would not look Bilbo in the eye and generally made the smaller male uncomfortable. Which entirely defeated the purpose of working in the fields!

Today however Bofur had joined Bilbo, he’d pilfered a picnic made especially by Bombur for them to share and he sat quietly to the side as Bilbo tended his field. Bofur allowed them a companionable silence as opposed to the sulky silent treatment he’s received thus far, the cheery Dwarrow contented himself with cloud watching and napping in the sun as Bilbo worked. When it came time for luncheon he sat easily with Bilbo and the pair spoke as they had on the journey to Erebor, that was until Bofur broached the subject of Bilbo’s reluctance to remain within the mountain. 

“Ye’ realise that you worried us, right?” Bofur spoke softly, his eyes lingering on the mountain in the distance. 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it would be easier if I kept it to myself… Hobbit’s aren’t built to live inside mountains, we need to feel the sun on our skin and fresh soil beneath us. The earth is as much a part of us as the stone is you Dwarves.” Bilbo responded sadly, he hadn’t meant to worry his Dwarves but the pull he felt to the fields was not something he could easily explain to them but Bofur nodded all the same. 

“We understand that lad, but that’s not the whole truth, now is it?” this time Bofur looked directly at Bilbo with eyes so serious they looked foreign in his face. Bilbo considered making a joke or blaming it on Ori’s pregnancy but instead he sighed and dropped his head into his raised knees. Bofur had been his friend throughout most of the journey and the perceptive miner was more than capable of seeing through the Hobbit. 

“In truth, it is Thorin and the Wedding. I understand that he is King and certain things are expected of him but… I am a simple Hobbit and I suppose I had a different vision of my nuptials, should I ever have the opportunity.”

“And have you spoken to our illustrious leader about this?”

“It’s hard to discuss with someone who’s never there” Bilbo muttered waspishly though he regretted it instantly. “He’s busy with the restorations, I understand that. He gets back so late and he’s so tired that I don’t want to bother him but I’m still adjusting to the times here and when I awake he’s already gone. Dis is taking care of most of the preparation but she simply hums at me and continues with more Dwarven traditions. I guess I simply need to feel like a Hobbit again, useful and… and Home I guess” Bilbo felt a strong ache in his chest. 

“Hm, well I think the answer is simple then” Bofur offered with a smile and a cheeky wink. “If you can’t get through to the Durin Siblings, then it’s time to corner the Durin Cousins!” with that Bofur began dragging Bilbo away from his field and back toward Erebor with barely enough time to pack his tools away. 

X~X~X

 

To Bilbo’s immense surprise, the first cousin they ambushed was Dwalin. The enthusiastic father-to-be was easily won over when it was explained to him how quick Hoobbit weddings were in comparison to Dwarven Weddings which would speed timing of his own nuptials with the possibility of Ori experiencing a Hobbit Wedding which they all knew would make the scribe ecstatic. 

Next was Oin, Bofur laid the act on a little thick with the healer regarding the ‘Stress’ the prolonged ceremony was causing their ‘fragile’ burglar and how the homesickness was becoming too much. Oin mostly ignored the miner but he did agree that Bilbo was paler than he should be, considering how much time he was spending in the sun, and had yet to put on much Hobbity weight. The healer also seemed to be of the opinion that there were better things to do than worry over an extended wedding celebration and the pair had their second ally. 

Gloin was third on their list. The pair tried to appeal to the banker in the older Dwarf, expressing concerns about the cost of a Dwarven Wedding as compared to a Hobbit one but the redhead simply glowered and huffed at the pair before lecturing them about the costs of either a return expedition to the Shire to have the ceremony or to bring the Hobbits to Erebor. Bilbo tried another track but wondering aloud if young Gimli had ever seen the Shire, Gloin said nothing further but gained a thoughtful look and the pair conceded that they’d made their point as best they could. 

Finally, they moved to Balin, Bilbo wasn’t too sure how well this would go and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to playing his trump card with the Dwarf. They found Balin with Ori in the room which had become his study, it was a short walk from the library so the scribe was often found with her brother-in-law to be.  
Balin was dictating some letters to Ori when Bilbo knocked, Bofur having returned to the kitchens to assist with the evening meal. 

“Good evening Balin, I was wondering if I might have a word.” Bilbo asked as he popped his head around the open door, the older Dwarf nodded and Ori began to rise from her chair which made her rounded belly more noticeable. “Ori! Please don’t worry about it, I will come back later!” Bilbo tried to flee but was grabbed by the collar and Ori fixed him with a look. 

“I am not going to explode Bilbo, I’ve still 6 months at least until I am due and don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding me!” Ori released Bilbo’s jacket and nodded to Balin. “I will be in the library when you’re ready to continue.” 

Once Ori was gone and the door was closed softly behind her Bilbo felt a moments apprehension about what he was doing, it felt as though he were going behind Thorin’s back but as Bofur pointed out what choice did he have. At Balin’s indication Bilbo took the seat Ori had vacated and spent a moment collecting his thoughts. 

“Balin I would like to talk to you about the Wedding and to perhaps ask you to share my concerns with Thorin when he can spare the time.” Balin said nothing but did raise a diplomatic brow at the request. “I understand the with Thorin’s position certain things are expected of him and by association of me. I understand very little of these at this point but feel I must remind you all that I am a Hobbit, of the Shire, and though we love big parties that all this ceremony is not necessary. I would also like to request that a traditional Hobbit wedding is given due consideration.”

“I will pass your message onto the King when I can.”

“Thankyou” Bilbo avoided looking into Balin’s perceptive eyes. 

“Alright laddy, formalities are out of the way. Now are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“I miss my home Balin, I miss my family and my culture. I want to marry Thorin but no matter how he locks me in this mountain and hides me in Dwarvish clothes I am not a Dwarf. I understand that he is busy, I respect that and that Dis is trying to help by organising the wedding because I don’t understand Dwarvish customs but Balin that’s exactly the problem. I am about to wed Thorin in a Dwarvish ceremony, which I don’t understand without my family and with nothing to represent them. Not to mention the coddling, I am being Faunt-sat just to go work in the fields, which I am only doing because again I am a Hobbit and I need the soil and sun as I need air! Not to mention there is nothing, nothing! For me to do within this blasted mountain aside from bake and fatten the company. And to add insult to injury I never get to see my twice blasted betrothed to even say as much…!” Bilbo stopped his tirade abruptly, his breathing heavy and his eyes drawn over Balin’s head to the mirror behind his desk which showed the door behind Bilbo. It was surprisingly open, even more surprisingly Thorin stood in its place staring at Bilbo with an unreadable expression on his face. The Hobbit jumped to his feet just in time for Thorin to grab his wrist and begin dragging Bilbo from the room and towards their chambers without saying a word.


	10. Morning Hobbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of Morning after fluff!!!

*The following morning*

Bilbo was not ready to wake up, that was a fact. The Hobbit was warm and comfortable in his bed, laying stretched out on his stomach with the sun warming his naked back. Bilbo groaned as he became aware of aches and pains through his body from the night before. He and Thorin had, not for the first time, argued about his words in Balin’s office. Followed almost immediately but a rather creative bought of make-up-sex which accounted for his current soreness, but not for the warmth and increasingly pleasant feeling of pressure on his rump.   
Slowly coming to awareness Bilbo rolled his shoulders to stretch the ache from them then experimentally did the same to his hips only to find an increase in pressure and an almost playful swat to his backside. At that Bilbo opened his eyes and with great effort turned his sleep addled head to look behind him where his lover, the majestically handsome King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield was kneeling, impressively naked, between Bilbo’s own equally naked thighs massaging his rear. 

“Good morning…” whispered that husky voice as Thorin leant down and placed a gentle, open mouthed kiss to the sun warmed skin at the base of Bilbo’s spine. 

“So it seems…” Bilbo quipped around a yawn, “and to what do I owe the pleasure of milord’s pleasure this morning?” he teased with another turn of his hips into those large, battle roughened hands on his posterior. 

“Well it appears I had grown lax in my husbandly duties as of late, an oversight I fully intend to rectify” Thorin’s skilled hands began to roam up Bilbo’s body, easing the knots and kinks out of his back with surprising ease. 

“By molesting innocent, unsuspecting, sleeping Hobbits?” Bilbo mumbled around a pleasured groan. 

“That was the plan, yes.” Thorin chuckled as he started on his Hobbit’s tense shoulders

“Well don’t let me stop you…” Bilbo sighed as he slowly turned to liquid beneath his lover’s caress, it had been weeks since they’d had more than 5 minutes alone together let along a lazy morning in bed.

Which of course meant the moment had to be ruined. 

It all happened in a moment, the doors opening to a large friendly bellow of “Mornin’ Cous-” the dull thunk of impact and sequential crash. The quiet Hobbity squeak, voices outside the room groaning apologies and a large blanket suddenly blocking out Bilbo’s view of the world.   
Thorin was gone, Bilbo was in shock under his blanket as he listened to Thorin pulling on his breeches before kicking, quite literally by the sound of things, the intruder from their chambers. When Bilbo heard the door close with a slam he slipped his head out of the blankets and found the room once more empty. Scurrying about quickly Bilbo threw his own clothes on haphazardly before following Thorin into their living area and assessing the damage. 

Thorin’s cousin Dain was grasping his now bloody nose and being supported by an apologetic looking Kili, the ornate candelabra which usually sat upon their bedside table was now laying on the floor with a suspicious red streak across the golden filigree and Thorin was practically growling at Dain while Fili attempted to calm the situation as the ever helpful Dis stood off to the side, bent practically in two, laughing hysterically at the situation. 

Bilbo looked at the Candelabra and shook his head before reaching for a pillow off the sofa and throwing it at Kili who looked at the peeved Hobbit in astonishment. 

“You lot. Out.” Bilbo turned to Thorin. “You, back in there.” When no one moved, Bilbo put on his best ‘Don’t make me ask twice look’ and glared at the Dwarves before him “Now”  
They all jumped to it as Bilbo stormed back into his bedroom and dragged his betrothed back to bed, the mood was ruined but he still planned to enjoy his time with Thorin. 

Upon returning to their bed Bilbo sat and encouraged Thorin to lay with this head on the Hobbit’s lap, slowly Bilbo began to unbraid Thorin’s hair and run his fingers through the majestic locks to massage his lover’s scalp. Thorin hummed with approval and slowly began to relax under Bilbo’s fingers, the Hobbit enjoying the intimacy of the moment. That’s why he almost jumped when Thorin, eyes still closed and relaxed, asked him what had clearly been bothering the Dwarf since the previous night. 

“Do you no longer wish to be bonded with me?” His voice portrayed more than his body did, the words were tense and expectant. As though ready for rejection and prepared for pain. 

Bilbo frowned and tugged at Thorin’s hair until the Dwarrow made reluctant eye contact with his betrothed. “The thought never crossed my mind Thorin, I swear that to you.” He saw confusion in those expressive blue eyes he loved so much. “I love you, for all that you are the most infuriating Dwarf to ever come from Mahal’s stone… I am home sick Thorin. We are being wed in Dwarven tradition, in Dwarven halls. I will wear Dwarven garb, be surrounded by Dwarrow and walk alone to meet you before reciting Dwarvish vows I do not understand.” Understanding began to dawn in Thorin’s eyes “I am not a Dwarf Thorin, as I am sure you have more than noticed, I need to be a Hobbit which sometimes means digging through fields of flowers and dirt for no other reason than my skin craves it, I need the sun as you need the mountain. I need purpose and to be needed, I need something to do for Yavasna’s sake but more than I need any of that… I Need you!”

Bilbo leant down and placed a kiss on Thorin’s creased brow before he returned to stroking his lover’s hair in the following silence.

“What would a Hobbit wedding entail?” Thorin was still watching his Hobbit with concern.

“Very little in truth. We would dress simply, white shirts and plain britches, and with our friends and family gathered we would stand before the party tree. We would exchange vows, the heads of our families would give their blessings and then we’d exchange flower crowns, simple wedding bands and a kiss to seal the union. Followed by a huge party where we and our guests would get disgustingly drunk.” Bilbo had closed his eyes during his explanation to imagine such a wedding with Thorin, so it was not surprising that he missed the look of determination crossing his betrothed’s face. 

The couple spent another half hour or so in relaxed silence before Thorin left to appropriately deal with his cousin and Bilbo left for Dale to work in his fields and today he was comfortably left without an escort.


	11. Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding looms closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm about to spam you all with updated because I just wrote 6 and a half chapters today and kind of broke my own heart...

Days passed quickly with Dain’s arrival, Thorin was stuck in council meetings almost constantly and the wedding was fast approaching also. Dis was still organising things but seemed to have settle down a bit, though she started making odd requests of Bilbo. Asking him to teach her about flower language, show her how to weave flower crowns and about his family in the Shire. Bilbo figured Thorin had mentioned Bilbo’s concerns and his sister was dutifully trying to help the resident Hobbit feel less overwhelmed by a Dwarven wedding. Silly little Hobbit he was, Bilbo found the attempts rather endearing and began to enjoy his wedding preparations sessions with Dis more than before. With days until the ceremony Bilbo even wove a flower crown for Thorin, not that he figured he would see his husband-to be wearing it. 

The fields of Dale had begun to finally show the fruit of his labour, or root as the case technically was. The crops were slowly growing, there was little more the Hobbit could do to assist with their care at this point, Bard was exceptionally grateful for Bilbo’s help as he explained they’d never seen such an easy sowing period in Lake Town (what little farming they did there) and began attributing it all to Hobbit magic of all things! Bilbo just smiled at the once Bowman, now King, and returned to the mountain feeling satisfied that if nothing else his help had assisted in feeding many mouths this coming winter and strengthen the ties with Erebor’s closest neighbour and trading partner. 

Bilbo had a well-worn routine when returning from Dale but being his last trip for a while the Hobbit decided to adjust his plans slightly and took a stroll through the Erebor Market Place. With the recent influx of Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and the Iron Hills the trades within the Kingdom had rekindled and there was once again plenty of activity within the Markets. Being small of stature Bilbo found it easy to meld into the crowd and simply enjoy the busy reminder of home, he had no coin to buy anything but knew that if something caught his eye he could send for some. 

It was while browsing some beautifully detailed tapestries and weaved rugs that Bilbo’s sensitive Hobbit ears picked up a conversation that made him wish he had gone straight to his chambers instead. Unfortunately, however Bilbo overheard a rather disturbing conversation as 3 Dwarrow in the next tent over vocally expressed their opinions of the new King of Erebor bonding with a Halfling. The way the said it, laced with disgust as though he were some diseased Goblin and not a Hobbit at all, made Bilbo’s ears burn with anger and shame. The group went on, berating the Kings choice and making snide remarks about what ‘the Halfling must a’ done to be’twitch ‘im so. Must be a damn good romp!’ Bilbo was ready to storm out of the shop and head straight home as he listened to them list alternative, appropriate Dwarven Partners for the King. Part of him wished to give the scoundrels the tongue lashing of their lives but another part wondered on the truth of the matter, with so many lovely Dwarven women returning to Erebor what would Thorin see in a useless, chubby and likely Barren Hobbit… 

Tears stinging behind his eyes Bilbo left the marketplace and forwent his usual trip to the kitchens to see the brothers Ur. Instead he went straight to his chambers, gathered his bathing supplies and spent the remainder of the evening silently sobbing in the baths were there was no one to see him.


	12. It's Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's getting Married today!

The morning of the wedding Bilbo was woken far earlier than he’d expected to be by Dis ripping off his blankets. 

“Up you get Bilbo, it’s time to get Hitched!” laughed the Dwarrowdam as she practically pranced around the room before bustling Bilbo off to the baths before the Hobbit had a chance to so much as whine. “So much to do before the ceremony!” 

Bilbo barely blinked until Dis threw him, literally and still clothed, into the baths. When the Hobit rose out of the water spluttering she merely smiled and started washing his hair. After the rude awakenings things got better, Bilbo was fed a light breakfast as Dis braided his hair that was now long enough for them… just. Then he dressed in a plain linen shirt and a new pair of trousers, Dis explained that the ‘rest would come later’ meaning the extensive ceremonial garb and accessories they’d been adjusting for weeks. 

Bilbo sat, a bit stunned and mind mostly blank, as Dis fixed up her own dress and began ushering most of the company into the room, they all looked resplendent in their ceremonial clothing with their braids done intricately. It was Bofur who finally sat next to the dazed Hobbit and explained their purpose in his rooms. 

“How are ye’ feeling Bilbo?” he asked gently, for once not wearing his trademark hat. 

“Truthfully? Numb and nauseous…” Bilbo tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes

“Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire nervous?! I never thought I’d live to see the day, the Hobbit who faced down orcs, wargs, dragons and Kings alike is afraid of saying a few words in front of a crowd? Psssssh, no such thing!” Bilbo did chuckle at that before elbowing his friend gently in the ribs. “Don’t fret none Bilbo, that’s what we’re here for! Since your family is still all stuck in the Shire, and if it’s not too presumptuous of a bunch of stone headed Dwarves” Bofur stood and with the other members of the company in the room (Bifur, Bombur, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Ori, Dori and Nori) bowed “you’re surrogate Dwarven family at your service”

With a dawning of understanding a smile finally spread across the Hobbit’s lips and tears pricked at his eyes as he nodded before embracing them one by one. It was not his Hobbit family but it was just as good!

Bilbo had just been released by the very rounding Ori when Dis cleared her throat. “It’s time Bilbo”

Just like that, the moment had come. 

With a deep steadying breath Bilbo stood and walked to the door, at the Princess’s nod the Hobbit continued towards the Throne room. It was definitely not Bilbo’s favourite room, with the long unprotected walkway, but it had recently been fortified and deemed the most appropriate place for the ceremony. If nothing else, the narrow aisle limited the number attending the immediate ceremony to a select few while the remaining spectators looked on from a distance. Bilbo could almost fool himself into thinking he was home, or so he thought before he stood in front of the large double doors, still without his ceremonial garbs, and listened to the cheering and music beyond. Never had the Hobbit felt so small, even as Smaug the Terrible, in his fiery glory, stared down at him and threatened to eat the burglar did Bilbo feel so awestruck and overwhelmed. 

Then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder as Oin, of all Dwarrows, stepped forward and wrapped Bilbo’s arm around his own elbow. 

“If you don’ mind humouring an old fool with no barns of his own; I’d be honoured to walk with ye’ ” Oin spoke softly, for Bilbo alone, his old eyes shimmering with old grief. 

Bilbo felt a lump lodge in his throat, not trusting his voice the Hobbit nodded seriously as he gripped the healers arm for support. 

Bilbo heard a subtle change in the music beyond the doors, the crowds suddenly hushed and the doors were opening. For all Bilbo had been schooled on what to expect of a Dwarven Bonding ceremony he had certainly never expected what was beyond those large, imposing doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA


	13. Towards Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding, can't I get married like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have made you all wait but I couldn't I'm terrible at suspense....

When the large double door to the throne room opened Bilbo felt his heart stop and he had to cling to Oin’s arm tightly to stop his knees from giving out beneath him. Lining the whole of the throne room, the piers beyond and the braids of every Dwarrow and Dwarrowdam present were thousands of flowers. At first Bilbo couldn’t take it all in but then his eyes landed on Thorin, flanked by Fili and Kili dressed regally in their very best. Bilbo’s beloved stood at the end of the aisle in a white linen tunic, black britches and was, amazingly, barefoot. Across the distance their eyes met and Bilbo wanted to drop Oin’s arm, drop all semblance of respectability and decorum in favour of flinging himself into his beloved’s arms as Thorin gave him a slightly sheepish smile, the fainted dusting of pink on his cheeks and more endearing than Bilbo had ever seen him. 

Bilbo couldn’t hear the music or the sounds around him, all he could see was Thorin but when Oin gently tugged his arm Bilbo dutifully stepped forward with him. Bilbo felt like he was floating, he could smell the mixing scents of flowers around him, feel the support pf his Dwarvish Family and suddenly it felt like he was indeed back in the shire and marrying Thorin as he would have back home. 

As they reached the throne area Oin gave Bilbo a small knock of heads before placing Bilbo’s hands into Thorin’s waiting grip. Balin moved to stand before them on the first step towards the throne and behind the couple the Dwarves took their appropriate places but Bilbo wasn’t paying attention, to the pointed he had to be nudged by the ever helpful Nori when he missed he cue much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. Bilbo repeated the Khuzdul vows after Balin this time and tried not to cringe at his pronunciation, then listened to Thorin practically purr out the sounds he so struggled over but apparently his husband-to be was not done with his surprises. 

Switching the Westron Balin looked at the couple with a fond smile. 

“Before I announce this pair Bonded in the Dwarvish fashion King Thorin, in deference to his consort-to-be, would like to recite new vows in the Hobbit fashion.” Bilbo felt his mouth drop as he stared at Thorin like he’d grown a second head but then that faint flush was back and Bilbo melted.

Thorin cleared his throat, almost nervously, before locking eyes with Bilbo once more. “My Bilbo, from the moment I first met you I knew you were different. In fact I believe my first words were that you appeared more of a grocer than a burglar,” around them the low chuckles of the company sounded and Bilbo glared without any real heat at Thorin, “But as with many of my assumptions regarding you I was to be proven wrong, in fact you proved yourself to be the most skilled of burglars by stealing from me the one thing I did not think could be stolen.” There was a tense breath where Bilbo thought, just for a second, that Thorin meant to bring up the Arkenstone again, “My Heart. After everything I had lost in the years following the desolation I had given up on love, on finding my One, and yet here you stand before me. I promise to cherish you as the precious gift you are, I promise to hold no other in my heart above you.” Thorin’s eyes got a very serious light in them suddenly, “I vow to never again raise my hand in anger against you, and to listen to you and love you in all things. Bilbo I know you wish your Shire relations could have been here today but I hope that, for now, this ceremony and my love is enough until we can visit them and renew our vows. Despite my sister’s many attempts to pass on your teachings I’m afraid this was the closest I could do.” Suddenly Fili was by Thorin’s side with beautifully carved wooden box which Thorin opened and withdrew a flowered diadem. 

The circlet was delicate, with the golden stems of various flower twining together to make the base just as one would a flower crown. Each flower was individually made with gold and gems, so gentle and intricate that Bilbo fully expected them to wilt. The circlet was made up of Ruby and Diamond carnations, sprigs of what looked like Opal stephanotis and Bilbo had no clue what the honeysuckle or orchids were carved from. All twined with almost liquid Emerald and silver, or maybe mithril, ivy and leaves. Bilbo had never seen such beautiful jewellery and nodded when Thorin made to place it on his head, the circlet fit perfectly, weighing less than it looked like it should and Bilbo ignored the feeling of tears slipping down his cheeks. 

“Bilbo? Do you have any words you’d like to say?” Balin prompted in the silence to follow.

“Oh I have plenty to say alright, springing this on me with no notice! Blasted Dwarf” Bilbo sniffed with a watery smile to the delighted chuckles of those listening. “Luckily it doesn’t take much to get me talking.” Levelling a look at his betrothed when he joined in the soft laughter “Thorin, when I first met you I honestly wished I hadn’t. I had 12 Dwarves and a Wizard pillaging my pantry, tracking mud into my carpets and throwing my dishes through the air but then you came and gave everything focus. You acted like a complete tosser and then you sang with such heartache I knew I’d follow you anywhere if I could help ease your suffering just a little. Thorin, I love you with all my heart and though I regret that Hobbit’s don’t have One’s I know that I will never be capable of loving another the way I love you. I promise to always be by your side for as long as you will have a fussy Hobbit like me, I promise to share your load when times are tough. I promise to stand tall, as I can, beside you and to support you however I can whether that means nagging your nephews into submission, dealing with elves so you don’t have to, standing between you and the teeth of wargs or holding you through the night. I love you Thorin Oakenshield, be you Kind Under the Mountain, Smith of the Blue Mountains or a nomad without a home and I wish I had a crown to present you…” Before Bilbo could say more Kili stepped forward with a carved box to match his brother’s, tentatively Bilbo opened it to find the flower crown he’d made a few days ago resting on a velvet cushion not having wilted a day. The crown Bilbo had made, wistfully not expecting it to be seen was, by Hobbit standards, cheesy to say the least. The entire thing practically radiated childish romantics like a tween with their first crush, though this made it look rather grand and Bilbo just hoped the Dwarves didn’t understand flower language as Bilbo did. Though judging by the chosen bouquets around the hall at least a few did. The overwhelming part of the crown was the repetition or roses, mostly red and white in classic fashion but also various pinks and yellows. Despite not used classically in wedding crowns Bilbo had also slipped in some Lilies and Peonies all held together with sprigs of baby’s breath intricately woven into an almost obnoxiously bright and big but luckily it would look just perfect on Thorin’s majestic locks. 

Bilbo reached out to touch it but was surprised to find the flowers cold and smooth to the touch, vowing to uncover the secret at a later day Bilbo lifted the crown from the box, surprised by the unexpected weight of it. Stepping forward and reaching up Bilbo was surprised when Thorin knelt down on one knee before him to accept the flower crown as though it were his formal coronation and Bilbo felt the collective gasp as he lowered the crown onto his beloved head before reaching down and tugging Thorin’s hands until he stood again.

“I now ask the families of these two to give their blessings for this union.” Balin called, trying to put the ceremony back on track and Dis strode forward with the predatory grace that only she seemed capable of and stepped up to Thorin’s side. 

“I, Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror and sister of King Thorin give my blessing to this union and warmly welcome Bilbo Baggins of the Shire to our family.” Dis leant in to tap her forehead against Bilbo’s and cupped his neck with her palm before whispering, “I’m not too sure how this is done in the Shire but hurt my Brother and I will find you, just remember that.”

Bilbo nodded softly “That’s basically how it goes there too” he felt Dis’s silent laughter as she leaned away before presenting Bilbo a bead that she then clasped into one of his braids before stepping back between Fili and Kili. 

Suddenly Bilbo felt the pressure of two Dwarrows at either side of him and watched Bifur stand forward and begin rattling off guttural Khuzdul as Bofur & Bombur translated at his sides. 

“Bifur is explaining that we are standing in for your Shire family as they couldn’t make it in time and we are not blood related to the line of Durin but that we consider you family all the same and feel honoured to stand for you” Explained Bombur softly with a grin

“Now he’s explain all the horrible things we will do to Thorin, King or not, should be break his vows or your heart… happy to go into exact details but I know you can be squeamish about such things.” Bofur added helpfully with a wink, “wouldn’t want you to faint on your wedding day!”

Bilbo jumped slightly when Bifur thumped his head against Thorin’s with a resounding smack, no longer having to worry about the axe that was once stuck in his head. For all that Bifur could now speak in Westron again, most of the time, he often found himself returning to Khuzdul out of habit and familiarity. 

“He’s given his blessing to the bonding and is presenting a family bead to Thorin to prove as much” Bifur was now clasping what appeared to be a hand carved wooden bead into Thorin’s hair, Bilbo would have to thank the Dwarrow for the beat, the threats and the gesture later as the 3 returned to their places behind the couple. 

“With the blessings of the families, the exchanging of vows and gifts we turn now and ask our Maker to bless this Union. Mahal, who gave life to stone and watches over his children together with his Most Blessed wife Yavanna, mother to Hobbit kind, please bless the union of this Dwarrow and this Hobbit as your own union is blessed.”Balin called out, his voice clear and filled with pride. “To seal the bond you have now made I ask you to kiss your spouse” a great cheer went up through the hall as Thorin and Bilbo surged forward as one, fingers threading instantly into hair as foreheads came together in a gentle, whispered tap followed by lips joining in the softest of touches. The sound of cheers, the hall around them and even time itself slipped away from the pair.

At least until the sound of a throat deliberately clearing brought them back, but back to what had the newly bonded pair gaping as the held onto each other tightly.

They were no longer in the throne room but in a stone hall which resembled a forest, or was it a forest which resembled a Hall? Their friends and family were nowhere to be seen but before them stood two beings, larger than life but yet so perfectly at rights with this place. It was like being at Beorns home again and yet everything seemed calm and peaceful, they were not afraid as they greeted the Valar before them with deep bows in the Dwarvish style. 

“I do love a good wedding” where the first words that came from the pair but it did not seem as though either had spoken but Bilbo would recognise the melodious voice of the Green Lady anywhere for all he had never heard it before. 

“We do not meddle often in the affairs of our children,” the strong but not harsh voice of Aule filled their ears and minds, Bilbo felt Thorin tense “but we have been watching you through your trials. We have high hopes for this union and the good it can bring to the world and to the pair of you but more struggles lay ahead, do not cower from them but face them with strength.”

“And with love, for in that you will be amazed what darkness you may yet defeat. We would like to easy this journey in the one way we can,” The Green Lady moved forward with incredible grace and placed a feather light kiss on Bilbo’s brow and the Hobbit flushed as he felt his body fill with Life, he felt younger and more energised than he had in years. “A wedding gift for you dear one.”

Mahal strode forward and knocked his head against Thorin’s and the Dwarrow’s eyes dazed briefly “Before I give you my wedding gift son I must issue you a warning, there is still darkness in the mountain and the curse of your forefathers is far from vanquished. Make peace and take precaution lest you lose all you hold dearest.” Thorin nodded seriously and Mahal smiled and with a wave of his hand a Dwarrow appeared in the distant Forest Hall. Thorin squeezed Bilbo’s hand briefly as the figure came closer before he dropped it and surged forward. Bilbo smiled softly as we watched the pair embrace, the face before him easily recognisable though he had never seen the Dwarrow before him. It was as a Durin face, so easily recognisable after meeting both Thorin and Dis that Bilbo had little doubt that this was Thorin’s lost brother Frerin. 

Out of the hall more faces began to materialise, all Dwarrow whom Thorin seemed to know and Bilbo was happy to see a lightness in his lover that had never been there before. However this could not be sustained and before long the faces were fading and ‘reality’ was returning; Thorin re-joined Bilbo and kissed him gently with a smile and tears in his eyes. Bilbo said nothing as the roar of the crowd resumed and they were declared for all to be officially Bonded. As they walked down the aisle, hand in hand to begin the feast which would follow neither mentioned the gifts they’d been given but both felt a happiness and peace that they never realised was missing until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWWW Aren’t I nice… you know it can’t stay this way right


	14. Only a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angst begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not prepared for your heart to break stop reading now... I want you to read it but if you're not into sad heart break please pretend the last chapter was the last chapter....

After the wedding of King Thorin and Royal-Consort Bilbo Erebor prospered in a way like never before; with Bilbo’s help Dale’s crops became bountiful and they shared these resources with the Dwarves of the Mountain in return for their aid in supplying and mending tools and of course the lending of their resident Hobbit. Bilbo was also, quite quickly, put in place as Official Ambassador of Erebor in all Elven and Human matters. Bilbo chuckled at the proof that Thorin had taken his vows quite so literally and was using him to deal with the Elves at all opportunities, it had taken some time but Bilbo liked to think they had finally built up a decent repour with their neighbours. 

While Bilbo was away often with Erebor’s closest trade partners Thorin was kept more than occupied within the mountain as more Dwarrow flocked to their reclaimed Kingdom. With Dis by his side Thorin was a Just and Capable leader, as he always had been, but as more Dwarrow arrived so did their daughters and there was always a Dwarf Lord here or there offering their daughters to ‘give the king heirs’ to heighten their own political power. For the most part Bilbo was unconcerned with their offers but as he was called away more and more often a deep part of him began to fret.

Then Thorin would look at him and Bilbo’s fears would melt away, they’d take a day off from the running of the Mountain and Thorin would take Bilbo ‘Adventuring’. Most often it would be a picnic on the mountain side or down in one of the little used Crystal caverns but every second the pair spent together was bliss. Inevitably though they would again be called away and Thorin would be the grouchy yet fair King Under the Mountain and Bilbo would be… well Bilbo. 

As the years passed the highlight of Bilbo’s week, aside from Thorin, was when he was asked to Dwarfling-Sit little Dwoldri. Dwalin had resumed his work with the Guard and Ori was assisting with the restoration of the Library so one day a week each member of the Company, who were able, would take the little scoundrel and give his parents peace of mind… to a degree. 

The birthing process had been quite traumatic for Bilbo; for all that Oin said Ori had gone through it quite well. The Hobbit never wanted to hear the Dwarrowdam Scream like that ever again! However the resulting squirming, cooing, hairy bundle had stolen the hearts of everyone in the company instantly (Gloin comparing the poor lad to Gimli much to the young Dwarf’s embarrassment).

Now the Dwarfling was growing into a rather active toddler who, at the age of 10, was running circles around the poor Hobbit and babbling incoherently in his mix of Westron and Khuzdul which Bilbo, now an official member of the Line of Durin by marriage was being permitted to learn but not to use outside the confines of the company. It had been on one such day as Bilbo was tucking Dwoldri into his own bed for a nap that the Hobbit felt it. At first Bilbo wasn’t sure if the fluttering in his chest was what he thought it was, that he wasn’t simply dreaming wistfully, but as he placed his palm over the right side of his chest the poor Hobbit almost fainted as he felt the small fluttering beat, like the heartbeat of a small bird, beneath his fingers. Bilbo felt the tears in his eyes but he didn’t care, he sank to the floor beside the bed and cried as he hadn’t in years. Even when the small Dwarfling woke and climbed into Bilbo’s arms the Hobbit could not stem his tears as he thanked Yvanna for the gift she had given him. When Ori came to pick up little Dri that night Bilbo hugged her tightly before running off to find his husband, tears still streaming down his face at odds with the brightest smile anyone had seen on the Hobbit’s face yet. 

Bilbo first attacked Thorin’s office, then the dining room and the Throne room but his Dwarf was nowhere to be found. Then he tried the training grounds where he found Fili & Kili, both of whom he hugged tightly before ruffling their hair and dashing off again, Bilbo found Dis in the Library but still no Thorin and he couldn’t help but spin his sister-in-law around in circles before chasing off again after her brother. 

Bilbo left her chambers and was about to dash back to his own, thinking he must have missed his spouse when Bilbo rounded a corner and stopped cold. Further down the corridor, outside the private meeting rooms was Thorin, dressed in his court finery abd looking splendid as always if a bit weary. Draped over Thorin’s arm and clinging to him fiercely was a Dwarrowdam Bilbo had never seen before. She was taller than Bilbo yet shorted than Thorin, her hair a halo of golden braids clasped with glittering jewels that threaded all the way to her equally dazzling beard. She wore impressive gowns and giggled at Thorin even as she leant up on her tiptoes and stole a kiss. Bilbo watched on in silent horror as Thorin simply stood there and accepted it, he did not kiss the dam back but nor did he end the contact. 

Bilbo couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move or scream or run or call out because there was no oxygen to spare. His thoughts came to a standstill as he watched the Dwarrowdam lower back from the kiss and nuzzle into Thorin’s shoulder as they began to walk away from the private meeting rooms and towards Bilbo. Bilbo knew he should leave, also knew he should confront them but his brain had come to a halting stop and all he could focus on was the ripping pain in his chest and the fluttering beat of the seed that could have been a child. As Bilbo finally turned to leave only to lock eyes with a sad looking Balin who was approaching from the other end of the hall but had clearly had an open view of the couple and of Bilbo. Bilbo turned and fled, which of course alerted the oblivious couple to their audience, escaping down to the stables he claimed his pony and rode out to his fields in Dale to hide where he knew no one else would find him and to mourn his missed opportunity as he cried through his seeding with nothing to show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … I didn’t mean for that to happen… I’m Sorry it all gets worse from here...


	15. Family matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Bofur...

It was Bofur, as it always seemed to be, that found Erebor’s Hobbit the next morning in the gloom and drizzle which covered the fields from Erebor to Mirkwood. Bofur was leading his own pony as well as Bilbo’s recovered steed when he literally stumbled across the Hobbit, curled upon his self and clutching something to his chest. Bofur released the ponies to graze unhindered and inspected the unresponsive Halfling. Bilbo’s skin was cold, evidence that he’d been here all night, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying but his gaze was locked on his hands and whatever was cradled within them. Slowly Bofur sidled up next to Bilbo and dropped his hat on the Hobbit’s head, sharing his warmth eventually he was able to coerce Bilbo to his feet and back to the ponies. Bofur made them share is own steed as Bilbo was still refusing to unclasp his hands or break eye contact, he’d yet to say a word to the miner but Bofur left it alone. Dwarven gossip ran like the river through Mirkwood, fast and rough. Most of the mountain now knew or suspected that there was something amiss with their Hobbit and all were aware of the jezebel daughter of a Broadbeam Lord intent on winning Thorin for herself. 

Bofur hadn’t put a lot of stock in the rumours but finding Thorin searching madly for Bilbo last night and now Bilbo’s vacant demeanour gave the miner pause, he and his family meant it when they stepped up at Bilbo’s wedding. They considered their Hobbit family and hurting him was unacceptable, married or not. As Bofur returned to Erebor he sent the ponies to the stable and began steering the still unresponsive Bilbo towards the home he shared with his cousin Bifur and sent word to Bombur. When he ran into Dwalin on the way the guard looked ready to take Bilbo away, presumably back to his fretting spouse, but at Bofur glare and bark of Khuzdul the Dwarrow backed away. None in the company had seen the usually cheerful miner so angry and it wasn’t Dwalin’s place to interfere in a family matter. Bofur lead Bilbo onwards, praying that his Hobbit would be okay. 

X~X~X

After the journey Bofur could certainly afford to live on the higher levels of Erebor, in a suite of rooms as the royal family did, he could certainly afford to live on his own if he chose and never work another day in his life. However Bofur, like his family, were from a simpler and less noble stock which meant he enjoyed having them close so Bofur chose to live with his cousin and next door to his brother and brood of nephews and nieces. They had chosen instead nice and spacious houses on the outskirts of the mountain, having become accustomed to living so back in the Blue Mountains. Their homes were large and sturdy but not exorbitant and above all things they were comfortable, a lesson they had learnt from their burglar. So Bofur settled Bilbo into his own chair in by the hearth and stocked the fire to life as Bifur came bustling down, Bofur explained to his cousin but had not needed to. Bifur waved Bofur away and began to brush and braid the vacant Bilbo’s lengthened curls in a comforting gesture. Bilbo didn’t verbally respond but his shoulders appeared a little less tense and the slight tremor had left him, Bombur arrived shortly after and the pair made their way straight to the kitchen to make their Hobbit something to eat and discuss what action they must take. 

“If what I’ve heard around the kitchens is true then our Bilbo caught him with the Boradbeam lass…” Bombur growled angrily, throwing his bulk around the kitchen space. 

“You should have seen him sitting there in the fields, thought I was looking at a ghost.” Bofur nodded as he began to prepare a soup base while Bombur peeled and chopped. 

“We’ll have to talk to the lad about his options; he needs to make a decision…” Bifur threw in from the doorway. 

“I doubt Bilbo even realises he has options, not even sure if he knows what’s going on right now…” Bofur shuddered and Bombur hummed. 

In their capacity as Bilbo’s Dwarven family they had effectively just taken him back from his spouse, such a thing was not common and could cause quite a stir if it was known but meant that the family no longer found the spouse suitable and felt the need to intervene. 

“Even if he doesn’t the others know, I ran into Dwalin on the way here and told him as much.” Bofur knew it had been a rash move but upon seeing the rest of his family nod he knew he’d done the right thing. 

“We’ll have to explain things to him…” There was a determined knocking at the door, before any of them could move the door was thrust open with a Bang. Bifur spun around ready to take on the intruder only to meet the steely gaze of Ori, Dri balanced on her hip, and he immediately closed the door behind her. Ori had really grown into her own after becoming a mother which meant she’d become exceptionally frightening at times but luckily for them she cared about Bilbo as much as they did and her ire was not directed at them. 

Ori dropped Dri into Bifur’s waiting arms and went to Bilbo; she settled on her knees before him and began to whisper softly to the Hobbit but with no response. It wasn’t until Dri began to fuss and whimper for his mother did Bilbo show any awareness of their presence and only then with a renewal of tears. Bofur brought Dri to his mother and a handkerchief to Bilbo, Bilbo looked up at him with such confusion and heartbreaking sadness as he opened his palm to show what had been cradled to his chest. Bofur was confused for a moment as he heard Ori gasp behind him as he looked down at the small object in Bilbo’s hand. It appeared to be a seed, no bigger than the nail on Bilbo’s smallest finger, but it did not appear healthy. The seed appeared dried out and, for lack of a better word, dead. Bofur didn’t realise what he was seeing until Ori too began to cry as she embraced the Hobbit and began whispering heartfelt apologies, it was then than an old conversation filtered back to him about the differences between Dwarvish pregnancies and Hobbit seeding Bofur felt tears in his own eyes as he realised just what Bilbo held in his hand. Not only had he seen whatever he had seen Thorin doing, but if Bofur’s memory could be trusted as far as Bilbo had been concerned he was unable to have children and may have missed what could very well be his last chance.


	16. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...

‘Be Nice, they said…. For the Good of the Kingdom, they said… Bilbo will Understand, he wants children too! They said! Blast them all to the lowest dungeons of Mirkwood to listen to Thraduil for all eternity!’ 

Thorin paced his office in aggravation, he hadn’t slept last night as he looked for his Husband after the incident with Adina and now he was not being permitted to see Bilbo and explain. No, now his Dwarven surrogate family had stepped in and banned him from their home. Banned Him! Bilbo’s Husband and their King! 

With a frustrated roar Thorin swept everything from his desk and smirk and the subsequent crash, it didn’t fix anything but it Did make him feel a bit better. 

Thorin had been with Balin and Ori planning a larger search party when Dwalin had come bursting in with news of Bilbo, Thorin had been elated for a moment at his spouse being found before it all crashed in that Bofur had claimed familiar intervention. Ori had immediately picked up Dwoldri from where he was playing on the floor and stormed off, presumably to find their Hobbit. The energy had then left Thorin and he’d sunk down into his chair with equal parts exhaustion and relief. Eventually Balin and Dwalin had left, it would fall to Dis to discuss with Bifur to allow Thorin access to his spouse if Bilbo would even allow it. Thorin thought he’d been doing the right thing but now he’s no longer sure. 

Those feelings had faded over the hours he’d been left to sit alone in his office and stew. Now Thorin was simply angry. Angry at Adina for kissing him, angry at Bilbo for seeing and running, angry at Bofur for finding him first, angry at Dwalin for not simply dragging Bilbo home, Angry at his advisors for being absolutely useless and Angry at himself for listening. 

Thorin dropped back into his chair and ran his fingers through his hair just as a knock sounded at the door, Thorin didn’t look up as Dis entered and sat up on his now cleared desk. 

“What a mess you’ve made, oh brother mine…” Dis sighed looking around Thorin’s office but they both knew that was not the mess to which she referred. 

“What am I going to do Dis?” 

“That’s up to you and Bilbo I should think”

“How is he, is he angry?” Thorin did not raise his head from his hands. 

“Angry is not the word I would use Thorin, more like broken…” Now Thorin did look at his sister as she continued thoughtfully, “Did you know that Hobbit men could have children?”

Thorin nodded, “Yes Bilbo mentioned something about it on our journey but that he was unable.” 

“Yes and No,” Dis looked at Thorin seriously “You missed what may have been your only opportunity to have child with Bilbo, yesterday he was able which was why he was running around the mountain crying, smiling and dancing like a fool as he looked for you. He found you with a woman in your arms. I have told you before and I will tell you again Thorin, you are an absolute Dolt” 

Thorin sat in silence as he processed the information given by his sister, he did not hear Dis leave as he imagined the child he could have had. A little boy with Bilbo’s curly hair and sharp eyes, his own Durin nose and stature and little feet with Hobbitish tufts of hair on the tops. He could imagine such a child filling his life with purpose again as he’d seen with Dwalin and Ori, that was all he’d ever wanted for Bilbo but now, as with all things precious to him, he’s destroyed his chance and hurt his One… again. 

X~X~X

Bilbo sat with Bombur’s wife and children in dining room, Bombur’s youngest on his lap playing with Bilbo’s curls which had been released from Bifur’s braids. Bilbo wanted to cut his hair, no respectable Hobbit wore it this long, but the Dwarves wouldn’t hear of it. Bilbo looked sadly down at the child and thought about the seed resting in a little bottle on a chain around his neck, Bifur had given it to him when the elder Dwarrow realised that Bilbo would not release the seed. In truth Bilbo didn’t know what to do with it, this proof of a child he could no longer have. Normally in the shire unplanted seeds would be quite a common thing, often Hobbits kept their first seeds but after that there was little point as it was such a common thing for the average Hobbit to seed many times a year. Unplanted seeds were often released to the River Running or scattered throughout the garden as peaceful resting places, it was not a sad thing for a seed to remain unplanted but for Bilbo and what might very well be his last seed, the Hobbit was not ready to let go. 

Bombur had explained a little of what was currently going on when he brought Bilbo to his own home; that they had stepped in as Bilbo’s Dwarven family as they considered what Thorin did to be in contradiction with his vows giving them the right to intervene. Bilbo was confused but currently he was confused about a lot of things and he didn’t want to see Thorin right now. All he could think about was that kiss, of how much it takes to get close to Thorin let alone being allowed to… to touch him in public. Dwarven kisses are usually touches of the forehead, the Dwarves had explained this to Bilbo, due to the risks and embarrassment of beard tangling so a kiss on the lips was exceptionally intimate and Thorin had allowed that intimacy with another. Bilbo shook his head as the tears began to burn behind his eyes again, he knew that the onslaught of emotion was a flow on from his recent seeding but he still could not accept what he’d seen. 

Bombur’s wife, Rurora, placed a cup of strong tea before Bilbo and the Hobbit gave her a watery smile. They hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to interact but Bilbo felt the kindly Dwarrowdam matched Bombur well. Rurora loved to cook, it wasn’t until after the journey that Bilbo found out that Bombur was actually an architect by trade and though he and Bofur did majority of the cooking on the quest the large Dwarf was considered a poor cook. Rurora kept trying to feed Bilbo but for once the Hobbit had no appeitite but was more than happy to surround himself with their brood of Dwarflings and forget that he would never have his own. Rurora didn’t say much, she wasn’t confident in her Westron and Bilbo understood more Khuzdul than he could speak, though he wasn’t supposed to speak it at all, but the Dam had a very expressive face and thanks to Bifur the could hold basic conversations in Iglishmêk. 

Bilbo was struggling to process his feelings, his chest felt like it was caving in and he was unsure he’d ever be able to stop the tears that threatened to spill over again. Yet, in spite of the pain, he could not find it within him to be angry at Thorin or to hate him. After all that Dam could likely give Thorin everything Bilbo was lacking, she was a Dwarrowdam and could understand Thorin better, being a female Dwarve she could provide him full blooded Dwarven children and heirs which even if Bilbo seeded again he never could. She was stunning in the traditional Dwarven sense; she would make a fine Queen for a King like Thorin, instead of a small nothing of a Hobbit. Could Bilbo really blame him for seeking what he needed somewhere else when Bilbo himself was unable to provide it? Did Bilbo even have the right to be angry? Perhaps this was the way with Dwarves and it is merely Bilbo’s Hobbit sensibilities that are hurting… Maybe… 

Bombur had explained that often in these situations the hurt party can step away from the marriage, have it cancelled. That was not something that was ever done in Hobbiton but then as far as Bilbo knew neither was infidelity. Bilbo thought about it for a moment but instantly dismissed the notion, he Loved Thorin. What would he do without him? Where would he go? Back to Hobbiton where it had been made clear he had no place, nobody wanted him there. Yet how could he stay in Erebor without Thorin? Being reminded of the Dwarf he loved at every turn, the one he needed but didn’t want him…? 

Bilbo clutched the Dwarfling in his lap tightly to his chest as the tears began to slip past his tightly clenched eyelids. Little Bodur took the change in stride and continued to play with Bilbo’s hair even as the sniffling Hobbit cried into the child’s own fiery mane.


	17. The king of Oak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think "King of Oak street" By Kenny Rogers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think "King of Oak street" By Kenny Rogers

It was three days later when Bilbo and Thorin were finally allowed in a room together by their respective family representatives. They sat in Bofur and Bifur’s home at the dining table. Bilbo at one end of the large wooden table, surprising in a Dwarven home but it made Bilbo feel more at home, flanked by Bifur and Bofur while Thorin sat across from him flanked by Dis. Bilbo looked at his Husband, the lines on his face that weren’t there before, as though he hadn’t slept in days, the pain in his eyes, the way his hand twitched as if he wanted nothing more than to throw the blasted table aside and grab Bilbo… 

Ori was also in the room, standing as mediator Bilbo was told but the way she kept glaring at Thorin told Bilbo that his friend was not exactly unbiased in the proceedings but then it felt as though everyone in the room bar Bilbo himself was glaring daggers at Thorin. Bilbo didn’t notice when Bifur and Dis began talking, he didn’t notice when Ori tried to settle them down, he didn’t hear a word or feel Bofur’s reassuring grip on his shoulder. All he saw was Thorin flinch and seem to sink further into himself and it reminded him of a time long ago deep within the halls of Erebor. 

“I’d like a moment alone with Thorin.” Bilbo watched the room visibly still, Thorin flinch again and everyone went silent for a moment before chaos ensued as every Dwarrow, bar Thorin, tried to explain that that just simply wasn’t the way things were done but Bilbo simply folded his hands together on the table and waited, his resolve strengthening. 

With and audible sigh Bofur was the first to leave followed by Ori, Bifur growled something threatening in Khuzdul and Dis muttered under her breath before they too left. The door was closed but Bilbo had little doubt they’d be trying to listen on the other side. 

The Hobbit took a deep breath before addressing his Husband. 

“Look at me Thorin,” Bilbo kept his voice measured and waited as Thorin slowly lifted his head and their eyes locked. Bilbo knew his eyes were still red rimmed from crying and his face was too expressive to hide his pain but he also saw that pain in Thorin. In his chair his shoulders sagged and his hands trembled, he looked tired and almost scared as though waiting for Bilbo to start shouting and declare their marriage at an end. He clearly wasn’t expecting the soft, vulnerable words that came from the Hobbit instead. 

“Thorin, it’s time for me to come home. I’ve thought the whole thing over and I think I understand; King Oakenshield is just an ordinary Dwarrow with ordinary needs. She will be a better match for you than I and if she is what you want Thorin then I will accept that. I love you too much to see you unhappy. I will not end our marriage, not unless it is what you want but I pray that it isn’t.” Bilbo took the small bottle out from under his shirt and stood as he took the chain off. Bilbo placed the bottle, seed visible inside, on the table softly. “His name would have be Thorn…” 

Bilbo walked out of the room, ignoring the group huddled around the door and went to pack his few belongings to return to his rooms in Erebor. He left Thorin staring at the seed, the Thorn would forever prick at their hearts. Never healing, never forgotten…


	18. Space

Despite returning to their rooms Bilbo saw little of Thorin over the next few months, his husband often slipping into bed after Bilbo had fallen asleep and leaving before dawn but that had often been the case before the Kiss anyway. When they were together things were tense but Bilbo refused to acknowledge it. After a while he once again started his trips to Dale and Mirkwood to discuss trade with the Men and Elves, Thorin would see him off and Bilbo would glimpse the amber pendant the King had taken to wearing since their separation. Bilbo knew that within it, preserved and unchanging, was their Thorn and an emptiness would echo in his chest. Dis had explained to Bilbo, because Thorin couldn’t, the offers of the Lords for their daughters to carry Thorin’s child and that Adina had been the lucky lass to be chosen but Bilbo didn’t care, it didn’t change matters. 

At least it didn’t until Thorin started drinking. 

Bilbo came home from one of his trips to Dale, it was mid-afternoon as he returned to his room to change out of his travel clothes only to find Thorin asleep on the lounge seat, fully clothes and surrounded by empty bottles. Bilbo knew that Dwarves enjoyed drinking but even he could tell his husband had over indulged, made even clearer when Bilbo tried to wake the pickled Dwarf only to be grabbed and crushed to his powerful chest in a drunken bear-hug. Bilbo eventually managed to wiggle free, right his own clothing and throw a blanket over the lump before continuing on with his day. Things hadn’t been the same since their separation; in the Shire it would be called the ending of the Honeymoon phase. 

Bilbo knew that they would and could work through it together, when they were ready but they both needed time right now. Time to heal and time to breathe.


	19. Alone

*6 months later*

Space was what Bilbo had wanted, needed but now Bilbo felt overwhelmed by it. Thorin had continued to drink in excess but now he rarely returned to their Rooms, stepping up in Thorin’s decline Dis had been forced to travel to the Iron Hills to see Dain and request his assistance. Balin and Dwalin were taking care of Thorin’s paperwork and general running of the kingdom as their illustrious leader drowned himself in ale. Ori and Bombur had started a day-care system with their combine children and Ori was again with child to keep her out of harm’s way and the children under wraps. The rest of the company had their own lives to lead, Bilbo wasn’t needed in Dale or Mirkwood or Dale and the letters from the Shire had stopped. 

Bilbo felt so incredibly alone sitting in their rooms or even roaming around Erebor, the only Hobbit in a sea of Dwarves. He’d grown used to the stares and whispers and distance over the years but he’d never felt it as much as he did now so eventually he simply stopped leaving his rooms. Bilbo had never expected to feel a fading, let alone with his partner still alive but the morning he woke with the echoing emptiness in his chest the Hobbit knew it could be nothing else and simply rolled over and cried himself back to sleep.


	20. Anger

Bilbo stopped leaving his room which meant he knew that Thorin stopped returning to it entirely when he did he entered the suites singing and carousing with that Dam on his arm and the smell of alcohol flooding the room. Bilbo would just burrow further into the sheets and cry, the aching in his chest growing stronger. 

That was until the night Thorin staying the night with her in their suite. Bilbo knew nothing happened; he’d covered a catatonic Thorin with a blanket where he lay on the floor and sent the disgruntled Dam on her way with the most scathing look he could manage. Once she was gone Bilbo paced, made 2 cups of tea and then woke his husband. 

Probably not his best decision. 

Thorin sat groggily at the chair, ignoring the tea in front of him as Bilbo sipped at his own in silence for a moment before everything spilled over. 

“In our home Thorin? You bring her into our home? What next, impregnate her on OUR bed?” Bilbo glared at his husband as Thorin nursed his head and seemingly ignored him. 

“I let it slide when you stopped coming some, I let it slide when you only came home half drowned in booze, I’ve let your relationship with her slide because I love you but I can’t do this anymore Thorin!” Bilbo was on his feet and striding towards Thorin, he had to make him understand…

“Shhup” Thorin Muttered angrily but Bilbo couldn’t understand him so he came closer still

“Thorin, please, come back to me. If you still love me please don’t do this…”

“I said Shut Up!” Thorin was on his feet in an instant, chair thrown back and fingers tangled fiercely in Bilbo’s loose locks. “All you do is nag and complain, isn’t this what you Wanted? Well” 

Thorin shook Bilbo by his grip on the Hobbits scalp before forcing his head up and kissing him angrily. “You are mine. Mine! I will do as I damn well please and you will like it. I am King Under the Mountain and you are my Consort, a King needs heirs and since you Can’t provide them I will find them elsewhere. Be grateful I’ve chosen to keep you despite your barrenness.” Thorin Pushed Bilbo to the ground before spinning away and storming off, Bilbo stayed where we was until he was sure Thorin was gone. Bilbo hadn’t seen that look in his husbands eyes since the incident on the ramparts and suddenly Bilbo felt cold. 

This was no longer the Dwarf he married, he had to find a way to get his Thorin back.


	21. Bruised

After that night Thorin began returning to their rooms but Bilbo began wishing him gone as the King was still drowning himself in drink and in his inebriated state he was quick to anger. In his anger Thorin began to lash out more and more, Bilbo started wearing more layers and though members of the company became suspicious he kept Thorin’s beating to himself. The whole of Erebor was aware of their Kings drunken state, man blaming it on Bilbo’s inability to produce an heir but the company knew better. 

Oin and Dori began hovering over Bilbo whenever he left his room, the fading beginning to show signs which the Dwarrow were unable to recognise. Ori and Bofur would often come to Bilbo’s door and try to coerce the Hobbit out but slowly he came up with better and better excuses to send them away. When they announced however that Gandalf had arrived to check in Bilbo felt panic, he knew that the wizard would see through the layers and hiding. He managed to put them off a few days by feigning illness but on the third day the Wizard would not be turned away and Bilbo was left with little choice but to allow his old friend into his echoingly empty suit. Gandalf took one look at Bilbo before his entire bearing seemed to age before the Hobbit’s eyes, he knelt down and gently touched the large purpling bruise across the right side of Bilbo’s face from where Thorin had backhanded him a few night prior. 

“My dear boy, what has he done to you?” Bilbo looked away as Gandalf took away the scarf Bilbo was wearing and rolled up his sleeves to show a colourful range of bruises in various stages of healing. “My word, Bilbo…” Gandalf took another look at Bilbo’s bruised face before he recognised the greying pallor and vacant expression of fading. “No Bilbo, you can’t be fading… How long? How long has this been going on?” 

Bilbo looked away and bit his lip “The fading started about 2 months ago, the bruises a little after that…” Bilbo automatically flinched as Gandalf wrapped the Hobbit in his arms which the Wizard clearly didn’t miss. 

“Damn these Dwarves, if I’d known they…” The wizard stood ready to storm out the door but Bilbo grabbed his robe to stop him.

“Stop it Gandalf, they don’t even know… Thorin’s sick, it’s not his fault.”

“Bilbo my lad, have you seen yourself recently? How could then not know?” Gandalf looked at Bilbo like he’d grown a second head

“They believe I am simply unwell, I haven’t left my room in weeks. It’s not their fault Gandalf, it’s mine. I… I couldn’t provide Thorin a child, I couldn’t protect him from the darkness, I’m just a useless Hobbit who…” the rest was muffled as Gandalf again embraced the rambling Hobbit. 

“That’s enough Bilbo, that’s enough. I’m taking you home, pack what you need and we will leave in the morning. I will inform the others, lock this door and wait for me here at dawn.” Gandalf had already left in a flurry of grey robes before Bilbo could so much as protest but with a sigh Bilbo realised the wizard was right. If he was going to fade then he might as well do so at home, be buried with his parents and his people. 

Bilbo locked the door as he was told and began to pack for a long journey home, all the while ignoring the tell-tale fluttering beat in his chest.


	22. Torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is the chapter that started this whole story and I am so so sorry… It’s going to hurt. Please don’t read if you don’t think you can handle it. 
> 
> Warnings for: Abuse, Marital Rape (I meant to just hint at it but It happened sorry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that started this whole story and I am so so sorry… It’s going to hurt. Please don’t read if you don’t think you can handle it. 
> 
> Warnings for: Abuse, Marital Rape (I meant to just hint at it but It happened sorry)

Bilbo was packing his bag, filled with everything he’d need on the journey and the few things he couldn’t bear to leave behind. He’d started writing a few letters to the company to explain but once his tears started smudging the ink he’d decided to pack instead, his fingers seeking out the flutter in his chest trying it’s best to combat the hollow aching. It was as he was standing thus, pack half-filled before him that he heard the stomp of angry familiar boots. Bilbo rushed to close and lock the bedroom door, he hadn’t expected Thorin to find out so soon and the Hobbit didn’t want to see his reaction. He head the heavy lock in the main door turn, Thorin clearly using his key as Bilbo dragged his reading armchair in front of the bedroom door. 

“BILBO?! Where are you?” Thorin shouted, he sounded more furious but less drunk than usual. Bilbo silently crept through the room, hiding in the only place he could… under the bed. The lock held when Thorin tried to turn the knob but click swiftly at the use of the key. “Bilbo?! Get out here!” He shouted again trying to open the door, thanks to the arm chair it didn’t budge but apparently the Dwarrow was committed because next thing Bilbo heard was a large Thump as the Dwarrow clearly slammed his body against the door. The chair shook and moved slightly, Bilbo covered his mouth to keep from making a sound but watched as the door slowly gave way to the brute force of Thorin Oakenshield. 

Bilbo watched the familiar boots come into view and felt his heart pound in fear as Thorin saw the pack Bilbo had been packing along with the goodbye letters. Bilbo heard the tearing of paper and the crash of his pack being sent across the room, the delicate clatter of Bilbo’s flower crown hitting the ground causing both he and Thorin to turn to it. Bilbo tried not to breathe as he watch Thorin walk over to the wedding gift then he tried not to cry as he watched those familiar boots descend on the delicate circlet and crush it. 

“Bilbo!” Thorin roared before he began searching the room and Bilbo took his chance, the Hobbit rolled silently out from under the bed onto the opposite side of the room from Thorin and jumped to his feet as silently as he could. This action alerted the Dwarf to his presence and suddenly they were both racing for the door, Bilbo reached it first but Thorin once again made use of the lengthening curls Bilbo had been convinced to grow for him and dragged Bilbo back by his hair. 

Once in their bedroom again Thorin threw Bilbo onto the bed and slammed the door closed before locking it.

“Please Thorin… don’t!” Bilbo curled in to himself to protect his body from the blows he knew were coming. 

“You think you can leave me? Huh? This is my Kingdom, My Mountain and you are My Consort, My Property. You will only leave this Mountain when I allow it.” Thorin picked up the discarded pack and without emptying any more of the contents than what had fallen from it already Thorin raised the bag and struck Bilbo with it. Bilbo cried out as the buckles struck him and broke skin even as the weight of the bag hit his existing bruises, the sounds only seemed to spur Thorin on as he lifted the pack and brought it down again. Bilbo felt the tears begin even as Thorin cast away the bag and ripped at the scarf around Bilbo’s neck revealing the satisfying marks of his own hands around the Halflings throat. 

Using the scarf Thorin tied Bilbo’s hands to the head of their bed and ripped his clothes away, Bilbo tried to recoil but Thorin held him down to examine his handwork of evenings past. It was like looking at evolving art, each mark and expression of his strength and his ownership of the body before him. “More beautiful than the Arkenstone its self.”

Bilbo looked up at Thorin but quickly looked away, his eyes were dark and glazed over as they were on the ramparts only this time they were worse. Bilbo tried not to shudder as he felt hands on his body, this was not his Thorin. This Dwarf was a stranger to Bilbo and his touch disgusted the Hobbit.   
Bilbo tried to struggle as Thorin became more demanding and more intimate, his hand reaching for Bilbo’s entrance as his other clamped around his throat. Bilbo tried to cry out as Thorin entered him with his thick fingers but he couldn’t get enough air to do so, Bilbo’s response only seemed to egg the sick Dwarf on further and far too soon Thorin was thrusting his hard length into Bilbo’s unprepared entrance. 

Bilbo tried to scream as he felt his skin tearing, his throat burning with the effort as he tried to fight against the Dwarrow above him. He could never beat Thorin in strength though so even as the Dwarf released Bilbo’s hip and ripped his head back Bilbo had no choice but to accept the crazed and sloppy kiss. Bilbo knew he was crying despite the numbness he felt all over, the empty ache in his chest stronger than ever as his heart gave up. 

Luckily for Bilbo the drink, rage and apparent lack of recent bed sports meant that the Dwarrow within him was not currently built for stamina. Bilbo knew when it was happening because Thorin tense above him and sealed their mouths together again in a rough kiss even as he pumped his seed deep inside Bilbo and rolled off him. 

Bilbo lay there in silence as he listened to the gruff snores of the Dwarf beside him, he eventually managed to slip his hands free from the scarf and leave the bed but Bilbo underestimated the pain and his legs crumpled beneath him. Bilbo lay on the floor listening to the drunken snores of a sated Dwarrow until he got his breathing and pain under control enough to slip away. Bilbo grabbed his pack and threw in the scattered items he’d lost and his writing implements as quickly and silently as possible. 

Dressing quickly despite his soiled state Bilbo wrote the only letter he could and left it under his pillow on the bed before limping out of the room in search of Gandalf, the tears never stemming their flow as he crept through the halls and sought out the wizard. Bilbo eventually found Gandalf in the stables, it was almost dawn and he was readying his horse and Bilbo’s pony and with him stood Bofur. Bilbo limped towards them, trying his best to seem normal but neither were fooled and Bofur surged forward to support Bilbo’s weight. 

“Bilbo? What happened, what has that Bastard done now?” Bofur looked at the bruises covering Bilbo’s face and neck, the mismatch clothes, the tears and limp and rage filled him. Gandalf didn’t appear much better. 

“Who did you tell Gandalf? He knew I was leaving…” Gandalf’s bushy brows liften in surprise but the old wizard shook his head as he lifted Bilbo’s pack onto the pony. 

“I don’t think it matters now, we must leave immediately if we are to outrun him.”

“You won’t need to worry for a while, the Drunkard’s asleep but I agree we need to be away from here. I can’t stay here any longer” Bilbo clutched his hand to his chest and gave the wizard a firm nod at his concerned look. 

“No Bilbo, he didn’t…” Gandalf looked closer to tears than he had yet and Bofur seemed only confused. 

“He did and he must never know, I need to leave before it’s too late…”

“You don’t have to do this my Boy, you have a choice…” 

“It is not choice; it’s not her fault…”

“Hold on hold on! What’s going on now?” Bofur piped up looking between the two as he helped a flinching Bilbo onto his pony. The miner did not want to think about what would make the Hobbit flinch like that. 

“Bofur,” Bilbo looked at the miner with such sad eyes before grabbing his hand and holding it to the right side of his chest, Bofur was confused for a moment before he felt a feather light thump beneath his fingers. “You’re going to be an Uncle again…”

With that the pair rode out from Erebor, Bofur distracting the guards long enough for no one to notice that the wizard had spirited away the Prince-Consort of Erebor. Bofur cried that night as he explained to his family that Bilbo was gone and the Abuse he’d suffered without their knowledge, Bifur was ready to march on Erebor that night!

However Bofur did not tell them of the child Bilbo carried, for all he trusted his family above all others he understood the risks of such knowledge should Mind-sick Thorin ever realise he had a blood child out in the world.


	23. Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling back into Hobbiton

*years later*

“I tell you, Bilbo Baggins was always far too Took for the Shire liking! Going off adventuring out of the blue, claiming to marry a King of a distant land; bringing nothing to show for it but disgrace and a damaged seed.” Screached Lobelia Sackville Baggins one morning to a chattering of Hobbit ladies in the markets, “Imagine returning from years abroad only to begin Planting alone, no Hobbit plants alone! Even if one’s spouse has died they rely on their family but not Mad Bilbo Baggins” The ladies nodded before another took over the thread of the conversation…

“…and that seed Must have been damaged! How else would you explain that little thing running about in Bag End…”

“That grey Wizards doing if you ask me, Bilbo couldn’t seed on his own. Barren Just like his mother! That child is clearly not of Hobbit stock…

“Small little wisp of a thing by all accounts,” offered another lady, holding her own mewling faunt close, “none of the sturdiness or podginess of a healthy fauntling. Black hair too, no Hobbit in the Shire has such dark hair let alone those tiny little soft soled feet! The child has to wear Shoes of all things!” 

“Shoes!” Lobelia screeched load enough for the entire market to hear, “In the Shire, why it’s practically… Scandalous… However will such a child survive? The only thing Hobbitish about her is her ears and her appetite, though I hear she only eats thrice a day! What an odd thi-ooof!” Lobelia didn’t get to finish her sentence as she was pushed, rather bodily into another of the ladies by a young Primula Baggins holding her own little faunt. 

“You Lobelia are a sour piece of work!” she chastised “You are simply mad that Cousin Bilbo named Droggo and I his beneficiaries should anything happen to him. You’ve wanted to get your hands on Bag End for years and now that Bilbo is back with a child of his own that’s never going to happen! Bilbo will be an excellent father, in fact Droggo and I have already named him as Heart-father for our Frodo” Prim ignored the gasps her announcement caused and strode away. 

By naming Bilbo as she had, should anything happen to her and Droggo Bilbo would be asked to step in and care for Frodo, it wasn’t an uncommon practice but no one would have ever picked Bilbo. Prim and Droggo loved Bilbo and so did little Frodo, he and little Belladonna were swiftly becoming the best of friends. 

Prim new the Shire was rife with gossip about poor Bilbo but she also saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at Donna when he thought no one was looking, Prim knew he loved his daughter and had loved her father but no one knew who he was or what had happened. There was gossip of him being a King and a Dwarf from Bilbo’s old letters but no one dared ask the mourning, fading Hobbit. They all knew Bilbo was fading, had been for some time but just as his mother had for him Bilbo had found something to live on for in his daughter. How long he’d last no one could tell, it was not a common thing to drag out a fading and it was even less likely to stop one entirely but Bilbo and his Mother were both proof it was possible. 

Bilbo didn’t go adventuring; he didn’t do anything that wasn’t care for Donna or tend his garden. He was the spitting image of a respectable Hobbit but his heart wasn’t in it, she did it all for Donna’s sake. Despite his fading though Bilbo had changed little since he’s left when prim was a girl, perhaps a few more wrinkles and greys but the despite being somewhere in his 70s the elder Hobbit didn’t look a day over 55. Yet another reason the lady Hobbits claimed a Wizard’s hand at work. 

Prim gathered her shopping and her Husband before they began the trek towards Bag End, Cousin Bilbo was going to faunt-sit Frodo while they took a trip out sailing. Prim smiled, Bilbo may be Mad Baggins but all Hobbits had their little eccentricities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be a sequel to be written to this but I'm not sure when...(It's in my head right now) Thanks for sticking with me!


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